For a few days last week, the main rooms of Bradley’s house became a wallpaper assembly line while Mike Campellone measured and cut and prepared a supply of elegant vintage paper for hanging.  “It’s going in the powder room,” Bradley told me.

Of all the houses in Oysterville, I’d be willing to wager that only Bradley’s has a “powder room.”  The rest of us might have restrooms, bathrooms (even “guest bathrooms”), johns, loos, or lavatories – but nothing so elegant sounding as a powder room.  And, though I’ve not checked them all, I seriously doubt that any of them are papered in a 1940s
Sears wallpaper called “New England Old Timer’s Days.”

On an off-white background, red and black and silver line drawings of 1890s characters dance and stroll and cycle into view. Words along the selvedge on each side give the identifying information and installation instructions:   “Washable – Top – Sunfast – Sears – Color Perfect Wallpape -r No. 789 – Run 52 – Join Here.”  I especially like that part and Bradley assured me that it will run around the top edge of the finished room.  “You’ll be able to see it while you sit on the throne,” he laughed.

I imagine that many folks around here read words of interest from Sears in Oysterville’s own “Old Timer’s Days.”  Whether they were called catalogs or wish books, publications from Sears often served two purposes in the outhouses around town –  reading material not being the primary one,.

There were no “powder rooms” back then either.  Those outside structures, located as near as practicable to the house in deference to inclement weather, were referred to as privies, chick sails, the necessary, or even as one-holers or two-holers.  I’m told that my grandmother’s older children often referred to our outhouse as “Mama’s Reading Room” because she would retreat there with a good book –the only location where she knew where she would not be disturbed.

Inside the house, usually kept under the bed, were the chamber pots or thunder mugs for use in the night.  My mother said that they were called “pos” (long ‘o’) in our house; she didn’t know why.  Whether or not pages from a Sears catalog were also kept under the bed, I never thought to ask.

It pleases me that Sears printed material again has a presence in town – a twenty-first century version to be sure!  Another one of those ‘full circle’ kinds of things that I love!