I recently started collecting clear glass bottles. And as you can see, my collection is quite small by collector's standards. I was at the antique mall earlier today in fact, and there were literally whole entire booths with these kinds of bottles. That's pretty serious hardcore bottle gatherings. I rather like my small collection. I don't clean the bottles as I think the stains add to their charm. I especially love the one to the far right. It's actually a baby bottle. If you look close enough, you can see the measurement markings. Makes me wonder about the baby or babies that may have drank out of it. Who were they? and Where are they now? That's the thing I love most about antiquing. The history behind each piece and the stories they tell. Since I have no way of reaching the previous owners, I entertain my own thoughts and make up stories as I go along. I'd like to think that the baby who drank out of the bottle was a chubby little guy with big fat rolls of fat around his thighs. He grew up to be a very happy lad, indeed. As for the other bottles? Well, they were found washed up on the shores of Canon Beach here in Oregon, containing messages of hope, peace and love.
The End.
