My grandmother loved cobalt blue glass. I'm not sure where she acquired it from, but it was always displayed in her guest bathroom. As a child, I remember being mesmerized by this glass because (obviously) I was only allowed to look... not touch. I thought it was the the most fancy glass I had ever seen, with such a beautiful color.
When my grandmother passed, that was the only thing I knew wanted from her house. My grandfather, eight years later, is now ready to start letting go of a few in their home. I was practically giddy when he remembered how much I loved the blue glass. He asked my parents to pack it up and bring it to me the next time they visited.
Once I had an opportunity to unpack the glass (and give it a good wash), I set up the blue glass in my own bathroom. It only seems fitting that it belongs there. I had the perfect empty shelf that needed this blue glass. Years later, I am still mesmerized by the beauty and the memories this glass collection holds.
The perfect shelf:
And they are so perfect to photograph.
A fancy glass shoe. It "says" my grandmother so perfectly.
The only damaged piece is a vase with a small crack. The glass is so thin, it makes me wonder how old it could be.
Aren't the lines on this vase just perfect?
This little vase might be my favorite. It has such personality.
My grandmother loved glass baskets. She had many though her house. I'm so glad there was one in cobalt blue.
Another shot of the sassy glass shoe.
Since this collection is living in my bathroom... I thought I would give a few of them bathroom "duties". Enter q-tips and cotton balls.
This photo is from the husband's vantage point when he's standing in front of his sink. Not too shabby.
(and yes, we plan on eventually hanging something on that huge, blank wall. eventually. I guess I was subconsciously waiting for the cobalt blue to inspire me.)
I plan on adding to this cobalt collection. I will be keeping my eyes peeled for estate sales and antique shops that have this beautiful shade of blue.
If I'm lucky, when I'm long gone, someone will remember the fancy glass in my bathroom... and it will hold equally wonderful memories. I can only hope.