In the beginning... God said, "Let there be light." And there was light, and He said it was good. Unfortunately, in my beginning I am fumbling in the dark with a very limited knowledge and even more limited resources. Let me introduce myself. I am an amateur antiquer. And while "antique" has traditionally not been used as a verb, I find there is no other word to describe myself. I am a nurse practitioner by trade, working in Northeast Mississippi at a small rural clinic. I am married and the mother of a ten-year-old. So how, you ask, does a twenty-eight year old woman become so intrigued with antique furniture? Easy. I am a genealogy fanatic. There is nothing greater to me than tracking down that elusive infinitely-great grandparent and discovering the circumstances of life at that moment in history. Therefore, I find that I desire to collect relics from those glorious days of inadequate sanitation, rampant pestilence, and commonplace hardship.
I bill myself as an amateur because I know next to nothing about antiques, except that they are older than I am. I am slowly learning the major periods in American furniture manufacturing: Victorian, Art Deco... (That's about as far as I have gotten.) I am so completely ignorant that I have ordered a book from Barnes and Noble booksellers entitled "American Furniture of the 19th Century: 1840-1880" by Dubrow. I hope it makes a difference in my antique literacy level. Until it arrives, quite possibly this week, I am still fairly clueless. Bear with me.