The Hands of Time

Ever since I can remember, I have loved old things.  Especially old things that came from long ago ancestors.  My grandmother had lots of old things handed down to her keeping and she knew the story of every one.  Since I was the only one of her several grandchildren who showed an interest in these items, I was the lucky recipient of many of them.  News of my interest spread to her brother's family and when my great uncle died I inherited this clock:

I was only a young twentysomething when I inherited the clock and I especially remembered my one of my uncles being royally annoyed that the clock had skipped right by his generation and given to me!

It sat neglected in my family's home for years until I got married.  Now, my husband loves antiques possibly more than I do and that clock was coming with us to our small apartment.

It was covered in a type of black varnish.  Every year folks brushed this stuff on their furniture for some reason.  My husband scraped it all off with a piece of glass.

The patina on the clock is beautiful.

The clock face was a grimy mess but my hubby cleaned it up so wonderfully.

Some of the trim work is missing from the clock but we have it.  When my hubby turned the clock around as he was working on  it, he found a piece of newsprint from a Scottish newspaper dated 1754!  Can you imagine hauling this clock with you all the way from Scotland?   I remember my grandmother telling me that when she was a little girl her grandfather stored some whiskey in it!  The clock still has all it's workings but unfortunately doesn't run.  I have a friend from Scotland and when I told her my maiden name she told me of the village my family came from.  Unbelievable!  This clock moved from Scotland to New York and ended up in this little corner of the world.  If antiques could only talk what a story they could tell.