Ghost Town Holiday

When my mother was a small girl, her mother would take the children up into the high Montana backcountry for a summer holiday, to a deserted settlement.  A day of sweeping away packrat nests and papering the walls with fresh newspaper would make a crumbling cabin into a pretty good camp.  They had bacon, flour, canned goods, fishing poles, and a shotgun just in case.  In the warm nights, the upper half of the Dutch door was left open to moonlight and cool breezes.  One night they were wakened by a scratching and scrambling just outside the door, and lo, a bristling head appeared at the open space, and quickly dispatched by my intrepid Grandmother, Florence Pratt Malone, with her shotgun.  After a more restful night, dawn revealed a scattered pile of porcupine quills where the bristling prowler had been.

The rest of their holiday passed without event but a few nice pan fried trout dinners.  With canned peaches for desert.

Earrings assembled from a very old rusty sardine tin, carved bone beads, key hole escutcheons, and porcupine quills.  The unique bead caps are back-of-the-barn trove brass settings originally meant to be used for rhinestone and riveted.  All patina here is natural, and the text collaged to reinforce the tin is antique, as well, c. 1860s.  That's the story and I'm sticking to it.

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Soon to be added to my Etsy shop.