Collecting Addiction

Jascin N. Leonardo Finger • March 18, 2013

I must confess, I have an addiction.


I like to...


...collect.


Not so surprising for a historic house museum curator. My “addiction” encompasses several specific areas. I am not a hoarder, I do not collect junk in my backyard and the basement is not filled with “things.” Some people might find what I collect useless, but sometimes the simple everyday item, from a nail to an old railroad spike, intrigues me for its simplicity and its beauty.


If you know me, or if you have read the “Portrait of the Curator as Darth Vader” entry for this blog, then you realize that I don’t preen in front of the mirror. Given the fact that mostly just the books and archives see me all winter, my hair typically looks like it needs a good combing (since I am pulling goggles and respirator on and off all day) unless I have a meeting or I am out in public.

But I do have a thing for a good “kitchen” mirror. Typically a mirror of the mid to late 19th century, it is rectangular in shape with rounded corners and hopefully some nice grain painting on the wood frame. Oftentimes, you will find crazing in the glass and black marks or missing “mirrored” areas caused by the loss of the silver painted onto the back of the glass. I like these mirrors for the simpler time they speak of and for the simplicity of their style, but also for their patina of time. In the Mitchell House, we have a mirror of a similar age and shape used by Peleg Mitchell Jr. for shaving.

 

Enamel is another fascination of mine. Enamelware could be found throughout kitchens in many parts of the world. Enamelware took off in popularity in the United States in the latter half of the nineteenth century – all shapes and sizes, all sorts of domestic uses from slotted spoons to cups, pitchers, strainers, plates, or basins. Think of it as 19th century Tupperware and the child of tinware. You might even be familiar with the enamel numbers for homes or streets. Enamelware can be plain, mottled, or marbled – the marbled being much harder to find and thus more prized. In my collection, I have one cup that was once part of a four piece set that belonged to my grandmother’s family. They used it when they went camping. I guess when family camping stopped, the cups got used for other purposes until only one was left. This one had become a birdseed scoop until it was given to me by my Mother who knows of my enamelware fetish. But even as a scoop, it was still being used and thus memories of family camping persisted and memories of those who used it were an everyday thought. Now on the top of an old jelly cupboard, it is still a daily memory of my grandmother, her parents, and her brother as I see it each day in the kitchen.


Depression-era glass (Depression Glass), 18th and 19th century pottery shards – yes, I have been known to dig in dirt piles – old bottles that I have unearthed in same named piles or at the ̓Sconset dump, seaglass, and historic postcards specifically of the Mitchell House are also some things I collect. (When my husband found out the price I paid for a vintage postcard of Mitchell House on eBay, I thought he would faint.) I also collect other images of Mitchell House, such as paintings and old photographs – I myself am a photographer of historic architecture with a focus on forgotten buildings especially those facing demolition by neglect – and McCoy wear. Since I am also a gardener, one can never have too many pots for plants and McCoy made many styles of pots including those with attached saucers! And then, I also love a good mid to late 19th century simple wood chair...



All of these items are used in a myriad of ways and continue to function as they were meant to be used or in new ways. Each item has some personal memory for me or my family depending on whether it was something I found while on a walk along the beach, digging in the dump, or a shop in New Orleans or something that belonged to my grandmother, great-grandmother, or a great-great aunt. These pieces connect us to the past and connect us to family members who may not be with us any more – but they are with us each time you use that cup or look into that mirror, they are there and you think of them. The past and the people of the past continue to live on.


JNLF

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By Jascin N. Leonardo Finger April 13, 2026
April 1878. The conference of Woman’s Congress officers met in Washington. Because we had one member in Washington we were invited to meet in that place. I went on at a great expense of time, money and strength . . . . We were in session at least nine hours. I think that more than half of that was used by Mrs. Spencer and Mrs. Sayles. The only motion which I carried through was to pay the Secretary $200 . . . In 1878, that was a long train(s) ride to Washington, DC from Poughkeepsie, NY and Vassar College. If Maria seems perturbed, I am sure she was. As president of the Association for the Advancement of Women, and thus the Congress, she had to be at the meeting. But it appears she did not get much say in the nine hour meeting. This was also a long trip to take when she had another, even longer trip coming up in July of 1878. In that month, she would travel with students and her sister, Phebe, out west to Colorado to view the eclipse and that train and wagon ride I am sure was weighing on her mind – not just the physical trip but making her way for an important eclipse viewing event. JNLF
By Jascin N. Leonardo Finger April 6, 2026
Well, actually replace the roof! With funding from the Community Preservation Act and the work of Lydon and Sons, Inc. the Mitchell House is getting a new roof. The current one had come to the end of its useful life. A cedar roof can last a long time – longer than asphalt – and is more historically accurate. The roof we are removing was installed in about 1992 – replacing a roof from the 1930s that was not cedar but a combination of materials that actually yes, did last sixty years. The unfortunate issue has arisen that the roofwalk (walk) has to be replaced. This is NOT the original walk – nor that old of a walk. It’s likely from the 1970s or so and has been cobbled at over time. It’s not a functioning walk – no one is allowed on it – but the Mitchell House needs it none the less. Maria Mitchell and her father, William, likely used the walk for astronomical observations – in addition to the yard – but the walk is also protected as part of the preservation easement on the House. Walks – NOT and NEVER called widow’s walks – were used for preventing and putting out chimney fire and roof fires. In a place where wood was expensive and had to be brought from “the main” these were purely utilitarian. What good Quaker (or non-Quaker) would build a platform for his wife to stare out to the harbor to see if her husband was on his way home? The other issue is that the walk was completely resting on the ridge board – and actually was notched to accept the pitch and tip of the ridge board so they couldn’t work around it. I suspect this may have been the ways walks were once built – and also a crafty and smart thinking carpenter who came up with the idea. It makes the walk lower. But between that issue and the age of the walk and then the blizzard of February 2026 that packed gusts over 83 MPH (that’s Category 1 hurricane winds) the walk gave in. Balusters had been knocked out and the railings were loose and pulling away from the posts. So, we will also be working with Barber and Sons to create a new roofwalk – and they agreed to do this for us quickly which is also no small feat given how busy everyone is these days. So from the bottom of the Mitchell House’s heart (and mine) a big thank you to Chris Lydon and Lydon and Sons and crew, Barber and Sons / Beau and Nate Barber, the Community Preservation Committee, and Nantucket Preservation Trust (our easement holder)! JNLF
April 1, 2026
“If you don’t look, you don’t see. You have to go and look.” -Edith Andrews
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