Symptoms, Causes and Treatment of Depression Glass

Interior walls are going in, the toungue and groove pine boards are looking beautiful. The idea is that the walls look like those of any cabin built along a pond at any time in the first part of the last century.

Now time to think about what will go in this house...

“Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without”

Depression glass was created as an inexpensive but pretty, alternative to imported china, cut glass, and other more expensive dishes. It was simple colored glass, pressed into molds, and made into useful glasses, plates, and serving dishes. Often, the glasses were part of a free gift with a purchase of some other commodity, like gas, or something else in the five and dime. Families bought gas and collected the whole set of pastel colored pink, green, blue or yellow glasses or plates, one glass at a time. There were several depression glass designs, from a Greek theme, to an elaborate curlique, harkening back to a time when emphasis was on style rather than utilitarianism. Now, in 2009, original Depression Glass must be sought out. Depression glass has been copied, and it can be hard to determine what the replica is and what is the real thing. The original glassware is a popular collectors item.

During the depression in the 1940’s, regular people could not afford anything. They had to get used to living with less, making their own, or living without. I imaging it as a time where creativity was important, to be able to make do with what was there. Value people, relationships, time spent together, because that was what people had. As now. If we don’t have everything we want now, and we have to work more for the same money, we have to just live with it. Simpler living. Get up, get the kids ready, go to work. Come home, feed everyone, clean everything, go to bed. Get up. Do it again. Every day. We have to make each day a unique, special experience. Each day we have the chance to be together, understand each other a little more, experience nature, or experience emotions, or learn something about the world. Being together in a genuine way is what is important. One day, if I end up getting paid more, or end up working less, I will have the time to travel the world, buy whatever I want, or, perhaps to send our children to the college of their choice. In the future, will I recall the time we built this house as a simpler time, or a more complicated one? Will the chaos of each today unfold in the future into simpler, clearer moments? Or will this unbelievably stressful, busy time for me be recalled in 10 years as the simple, quiet young childhood of my children?

Now, Depression glass is not only beautiful, it is expensive. I can’t really afford it. I’ll seek out imitation Depression glassware and dishes to put in our house. Depression glass seems to fit at Poverty Pond. I want to recreate the time period it is from. It is a time before life became automatic, plugged in, fast and furious. I want the green glass and the blue glass. It is elegant. It matches our color scheme. What is more important still, is it has a history to which I can relate. Life was unbelievable difficult during the depression. Yet, it is recalled as a simple time, where families were together. I want to take this lesson and recall each stressful, hectic today as one where my children are happy and healthy. I want to value each busy, expensive day as one where I can get in my car and drive us anywhere we need to go. I hope I sit in the sun and soak up every ray when I have a millisecond to be still. I know enough to know that I’ll look back and remember this time as one where I was the healthiest and most energetic I have ever been. I want everything, always, and I’m sure that won’t change. But for now, mostly, I am going to remember to save what I have today, so I don’t have to look for a replica later on.

Remembering Sofie

Reina Sofia Gomez

May 7, 1997- October 09, 2009

I don’t need an urn of ashes to remember Sofie by because I’ll be finding her black hair in the house forever. It is on every rug, behind every door and on every piece of furniture. The space where a dog used to be is large. I don’t have to be careful that I am going to trip over Sofie on the floor at night anymore. You just cannot see a black dog in the night time. We can eat on the couch without someone trying to get the food out of our hands, plates and laps. There is no one to ask to go out just as we are sitting down, then ask to come back in five minutes later. There is no one to walk in the morning. In fact, there is no reason to get up early. There is no need to call Linda every other morning to ask if she fed the dog or not. There are no giant purple bags of dry food to heave in the cart, into the car and into the house. We can leave the gate open. There are no vet bills.

I did not know what I was going to do about the holes in the back yard. I filled them in, put a bench over them and put planters in front of the holes, in order to keep Sofie from digging increasingly larger holes and filling in the window well with dirt. I did my best to keep the hosta in the ground, and not spread all over the stepping stones, which became covered with dirt. At some point I gave up, and just periodically tried to sweep the dirt from the stones, which eventually ran through a mine field of holes around the corner of the house. I never once thought that the solution to the problem of the holes was that Sofie would die. It gives one perspective. Think of all the problems in the world. There is always a solution to the problem, and it is not always the one that we think will do the trick. A permanent solution to a problem is one that will fundamentally change the problem. What is the solution to a dog digging holes in the backyard? If there is no dog, there will be no holes. But is that what we really want? What are we willing to live with in order to have what we really want?

We don’t have to come home to let the dog out anymore. We don’t have to pay for her to be boarded when we go away, then go pick her up when we get home. We don’t even have to come home. We don’t have to do the many, many inconvenient things necessary in order to take care of a dog. But now we don’t have her happy smile every single time we get home. I don’t have her company in the dark, early hours in the winter time, to run with me. I don’t have her warm furry neck to hold when I can’t manage to do anything but cry. That is what I will miss. She was always, always there.

To watch a dog be happy is to be happy. She loved to run, especially free, off of a leash. She could chase a bird down the beach for a long, long way. She would win the tail wagging contest, with the fancy rotating tail wag that she was so generous about. There is nothing better than to see a happy, tired dog at one’s feet. You know you’ve done your job in exercising, feeding and caring for her, and her only job at that point is to be your friend. In that capacity she never let us down. She was always hopeful, always up for whatever we wanted to do. She wanted to be with us wherever we went. Unless, of course, we were going to the vet.

I’ll think of Sofie whenever I am somewhere in nature. She loved to be outdoors, running, sniffing, exploring. She wanted to swim in every pond and puddle, run in every field and crawl under every porch to explore. Sofie wanted to have every experience she could, and never thought about anything else. I have so many things on my mind that I mostly can’t think about what is going on right now. I can’t seem to remember that to be happy is to enjoy now. As Sofie could only live in the now, she did her best to keep us there while she was here. Perhaps the memories of her can help me stay present. Each time I find a long, black dog hair, I’ll use it as a message from Sofie. What is going on right now? How can I better pay attention to it and live in the present? I’ll listen even if it tells me it’s time to vacuum. I’ll live in the present. But I’ll be thinking of Sofie while I’m doing it.

The Centerboard

If the cabin is a mast, then the centerboard of our new home is a 220 foot deep artesian well. It tapped some of the best drinking water in the country. Poland Springs wanted it. They wanted it enough in 2006 to put in 23 illegal well points about a mile from here in order to test the water. They wanted to tap the aquifer that we all sit on here for up to 50,000 gallons a day. They wanted to send trucks to retrieve the water up and down a country road a mile from here. Poland Springs is owned by The Nestle Corporation. The people of our town fought them off.

Poland Springs, aka the Nestle Coporation, went into a wildlife management area owned by our town and without permission tapped the water for testing 3 years ago. The well points are the relatively shallow wells that tap the ground water. Well points range from 10-25 feet below the ground. Seeking to further their sources of “the best tasting water on earth”, Poland Springs entered into an engagement with what turned out to be a town full of smart, active and courageous people, who would not be mislead by a corporate giant.

I didn’t know that I’d become part of a town when we bought the land. I didn’t anticipate that I’d be on the front lines of the movement away from bottled water to tap water. Take back the tap, we say, and mean it, because the cost of drilling, transporting, bottling, and transporting again, is immense. We don’t need to pay it. We especially, do not need to pay Poland Springs, Nestle, Deer Park, Coca Cola or any other bottling company, for water inferior to what we can find on our property.

The illegal well points are gone. The selectmen of the town made sure of that. What is left is a bad feeling about Poland Springs and a good feeling about this town. This town that I’m proud to be a part of has a solid center.

Sunday activities

People would pay good money to cover themselves like this!


Not sure if they'd pay for this, though




Roof is on, as are steps on the porches!

I think of this as the tower side

What a beautiful septic field, it's huge!

view from the septic field, it was a gorgeous day as well.

This will be screened in soon enough.

We have the key

The Doors and windows are all in.

The windows include our two reclaimed lead glass windows in the upper stairway and the half circle above the large windows.

We sat under our new porch in a rainstorm and stayed dry.

Septic field and tank below the ground awaiting inspection before it can be filled with dirt and grass planted.

Doors, Windows in and roof is on the way

Electrical roughed in among other things...

Plumbing is also roughed in. The work that needed to be done before the walls were in is done.

A Vision

I am struck by a vision that I had early Saturday morning while on an invigorating but exhausting miles long mountain bike ride around the base of a 1000 foot peak. I was on an ATV trail that I had not been on before. My goal was to go around the mountain, and the trail was incredibly wet, hilly and much of the time consisted of inclines of softball sized scree. What’s worse, I was being chased by biting deer flies. I could not take my hands off of my handlebars long enough to swat them off of my back much of the time. A little over halfway around the mountain I looked ahead. I was on an easier bit, a relaxing slow dirt downhill. I saw far in front of me a long, wooden footbridge. There are other footbridges on the trails, and they are fun to cross. The mountain streams are beautiful and clear. This bridge looked especially long, and appeared more as a suspension bridge, like one that would cross a long span, very high up. I was excited to see the bridge ahead, and more excited to cross it, imagining the steep terrain on both sides. I wanted to see what was on the other side, as well as experience being on the bridge, as opposed to the rocky trail I was riding over. I saw the bridge clearly ahead of me. When I got closer, however, I realized that what I was looking at was not a wooden footbridge at all. Rather, the span was an incredibly intense beam of sunlight in the woods, striking in its bright clarity against the dark trees. It charged down to the earth from a gap in the dense branches above. It was still a bridge that I saw, but this one went from this earth to the heavens. I rode my bike directly through the beam, hoping to be baptized by its intensity. I cried “beam me up!” with true desire as I rode through, wishing I could cross something, either a bridge from one side to another, or travel a beam from this world to another.

I am always looking for an adventure, and this cabin journey is most definitely that. When the porches went on and the windows and doors installed this week, it was clear that the divide had been crossed. We now own two homes. May the cabin be a mast.

new images/ a roof

Four Walls