Treasures, Part 3

Here are some more items from my mother's old jewelry box.

I came across this necklace about a year ago and realized how pretty it was. I know I'd seen it before, but its charm was lost on me until recently. The picture doesn't show too much of the chain, but it's unusual enough to add to the charm of the necklace.

This is another necklace that I find interesting because of its old-fashioned look. The filigree work is on a translucent material that is probably some sort of plastic that has a kind of sunburst look to it. The stone in the center may or may not be a tiny diamond. My main reason for thinking it might be real is that it's so tiny. It seems that, if it were a rhinestone, they would have used a gaudier one. The butterfly-shaped filigree piece on the chain is a sort of gold color, rather than the white of the pendant and chain. I'm not sure whether that was intentional or whether it has tarnished with age.

This necklace has a lovely green stone in a white filigree setting. It has some filigree work on the chain that is similar to the previous photo, but it is white on this necklace. There are also some little pearls and imitation stones enhancing the chain.

This cameo necklace has always been a favorite of mine. I love the chain, the little dangly things under the pendant, the cameo itself, and its setting. I could probably do without the rhinestones at the four corners, but they don't keep me from enjoying this piece.

 

This is an old locket which has always held a fascination for me because of the elaborate detail on its face.

I hope I haven't bored everyone to death with these trinkets from my past. But, if I have, you can relax now. I think I've pretty well exhausted my supply.

 

Treasures, Part 2

These are a few more of the treasures from my mother's little red cardboard jewelry box.

This may have been her mother's wedding band. It's 14K gold, and the design covers all but about a half-inch of the outer ring, leaving a space for engraving. But nothing is engraved, leaving some doubt as to whose ring it actually is.

This is my mother's wedding set. The stones look larger in this picture than they really are. In fact, until I saw this photograph, I hadn't realized that a stone was missing from the larger ring. You can see the empty hole on the right-hand side of the ring. At the time that my parents married, there couldn't have been much money to spend on the rings, but I've always admired this wedding set. The rings are designed in a way that enhances the stones and shows them in their best light.

I don't know whose ring this cameo was. I don't think I ever saw my mom wear it, so it may have belonged to an aunt who died when I was about nine. It's also 14K gold and was one of the many items that stirred my interest and imagination as it languished in Mom's jewelry box when I was young.

This is my mother's birthstone ring. Information inside the ring includes the letters "OB," the 14K designation, and what looks like a sort of cross. The "OB" identifies the ring's manufacturer as Otsby and Barton. Interestingly, Otsby was a passenger on the Titanic and died when that ship sank on her maiden voyage in 1912. I'm not sure what the cross symbol might mean. It might be an indicator of the date of production, but I couldn't find any information about that.

I always thought that this ring was my grandmother's birthstone ring, partly because the size was larger than my mom's rings. But Grandma's birthday was in October, and the October birthstone is an opal, not a garnet or a ruby. So, again, I have an object that I don't know a lot about. And again, the photograph reveals a blemish that I didn't know existed until I saw it in the picture. You can see that there's a chip out of the stone. If there is any information inside the ring, I'm not able to make it out with a regular magnifying glass. The gold is dull and tarnished looking, so it may not be of a very high quality.

This is one that I don't have a clue about. It's a sterling silver filigree ring with what is most likely a genuine diamond chip. It's quite tarnished but would probably be very pretty if professionally polished. I know nothing of its history.

On another note...the hand model really should get a manicure.

I saw my niece, Beckie, today; and she was asking why she'd never heard of these "treasures" before and said she was waiting with anticipation for the next installment. So, Beckie, this post is for you.

Treasures, Part 1

My father worked in a machine shop when my brother, Phil, and I were little. Well, actually, he worked there his entire working life. But this post is about when Phil and I were little.

Apparently, there was occasionally some spare time in the machine shop, because Dad made things for his children. There was a bracelet for me:

And there was a ring for each of us:

I would guess that my dad probably shouldn't have been doing these sorts of things while at work, unless he was able to do them during breaks and using scrap metal which would have been thrown out anyway. But I've always found it touching that he was thinking of his family and that he crafted these little items himself.

Of course, by the time I became aware of these baby things, I had already outgrown them. But there they were in my mom's little red cardboard jewelry box, keeping The Watch company, and piquing the interest of one little Linda Sue.

A relatively small selection of treasures from that jewelry box still survives, and most of those that I've kept have little monetary value. But, still...they are treasures nonetheless.

The Watch

When I was growing up, there were treasures in my mother's dresser...treasures I was allowed to look at but not to touch. Most of them were kept in a little six-drawer (three on each side) box made of sturdy red cardboard. That's where Mom kept her jewelry and a few keepsakes.

Obviously, a cardboard jewelry box wasn't likely to contain anything but costume jewelry, but there was one item in that box that occupied my thoughts more than any other. That was a gold pocket watch.

If I ever heard the story of the pocket watch, I've long since forgotten it; and there is no one left from that generation who could now shed light on it. Engraved on one of the covers inside the watch are the initials "M E." I can't think of anyone in my mom's family with those initials. Mom's father was a railroader, and these watches were often carried by railroaders; but those aren't his initials.

Anyway, when my mother died, the watch passed to me.

This is the front of the watch. A push on the winding knob on the top flips this cover open to reveal the watch face.

This is the back of the watch. The design on the back is slightly different from that on the front.

The watch face. (Please excuse the dust.)



This is the inside of the back cover, showing the serial number and logo of the case's manufacturer. There is other information on there, too, that looks as if it was scratched on by hand. But it's hard to make out, and I have no idea what it means.

After opening the cover that has the initials on it, you find the case's serial number repeated, as well as the name of the case's manufacturer and his guarantee. This is on the flip side of the initials.

This is the watch's movement, appearing just opposite the case manufacturer's guarantee. The name of the manufacturer and the watch's serial number (different from the case's manufacturer and serial number) are imprinted on the movement.

Now, can you see why this watch held such fascination for me as a little girl? It really hasn't lost any of its fascination as I've gotten older, either.

As I was preparing this post, I looked up the Hampden Watch Company in Canton, Ohio. It appears, according to the serial number of the watch, that it was manufactured in 1908. It's still in good working order, with no damages except for some scratches. I haven't observed it enough to know if it keeps accurate time, though.

My dad once bought me a chain for the watch, so that I could wear it as a pendant; but I just never felt comfortable doing that. So it remains in my jewelry box, where I pick it up and admire it from time to time and wonder what stories it could tell if it could talk. I'll probably never know.