Marjorie (Sackrider) Larmon remembers the 1920s when she roamed the countryside with her father, an Oxford County dairy farmer, buying cast-offs, antiques and other people's 'junk'.
Her first purchase, is as fresh in her memory as though it happened yesterday; took place when she was about six. "My father took me along when he visited a farmer and warned me to stay in the Democrat (the horse and buggy). But, you know, I saw an old chicken house that I had to explore."
She came out with a small sponge-decorated porcelain Port Neuf bowl. Although the farmer was happy to get rid of it, her father was upset that she had disobeyed him and, on top of that, had stolen something. Later, they all agreed that she could keep it if she paid the farmer ten cents. Even now she wonders "just what else was in that old hen house."
"That was the beginning of a wonderful life," said a then 70- year old Marjorie, in a 1983 interview that took place in her late parents' century-old farmhouse in Burgessville, amidst the treasures she inherited and acquired. "I always loved to scrummage around. Once I went in someone's attic looking for old green bottles. Instead, I spotted a wonderful old stove which I paid $10 for. Dad said I had better put it down in the furnace room because I might need it someday." When she and her husband built a new room on the house, 45 years later, they had it installed.
Because she started buying at such a young age Marjorie eventually realized that her bedroom would be impossible if she did not sell some of her collection. Besides, her mother was starting to throw stuff away. "The first thing I ever sold was a wheelbarrow wheel. I paid a quarter for it and sold it to Ely Bendo, the old blacksmith in town. He wanted to give me 50 cents but I needed a dollar so that I could buy something I had my eye on. I kept at him until he gave me that darn dollar."
At 15 she officially became a dealer--buying and selling-- getting loans from her father, paying him off and starting again. When she finally left home to marry Clarence Larmon, a chartered accountant, and moved from Burgessville to Kingsville, she opened her first shop: Marjorie Larmon's Antiques. "I dealt in china and glass but my love for wood was always there." Some years later they moved to Thamesville and the shop became The Barn of Antiques and later to her final location, in Burgessville.
Today, recalling some of her experiences and adventures, from the retirement village she now calls home, she is just as animated and excited about antiques as she was two decades ago when we first met. "Let me tell you a story" she says, and off she goes. This one is about her last shop, known as The Pig 'n' Plow, located in the barn at the rear of her farmhouse. "Sixty-five year ago I bought a wooden pig, originally from a carousel, in a junkyard for two dollars. A neighbour gave me a splendid old plow and I had the name for my business."
At 93 years, having serious issues with arthritis and two hip replacements, she was forced to let go of her prized collection, in what would turn out to be a benchmark sale, netting a few dollars sort of one million. Clearly, during our four hour meeting a few days before the auction, the artifacts still generated powerful emotions. Did she have a hard time letting go? Yes, there were tears. "I'm never going back to that farm. It is being sold. My beautiful things are being sold. They will be gone soon. Yes, this is a very hard time for me." Even so, Marjorie cheered up just talking about her memories and oh, the stories she told!
She remembers attending a farm auction on land that was soon to be the site of the new Ford Plant. "It's where I bought that wonderful table that sat so long in my kitchen. (Featured on he front cover of the auction catalogue.) The dear old farmer said that his second wife didn't like the table so it had to go. I outbid a rich gentleman who bought antiques to decorate his shop. Years later, when I was shopping in St. Thomas, I bumped into him. He asked if I still had the table and would I consider selling it? I told him that he has lots of money and should have bought it then. 'Yes,' he answered. 'I have the money but you my dear, have the knowledge. I knew it was a lost cause so I let you have it.' "
As she held onto the auction catalogue, she dramatically tapped the cover. "These things", she said slowly, "are me. Just Look at this cat; (lot number 277) I had it as a child. Do you know what it is? Well, you hang it up in a cherry tree. The great big old glass eyes scare the birds away."
Talking about lot number 46 she got a bit misty. "That cutlery box, with the heart design cut into the handle, sat every day in my kitchen. Isn't it better to have something beautiful to look at, than money?" As suddenly as that thought flew out of her mouth she quipped: "I haven't got a great deal of formal education but I sure know the beauty of things, don't I?"
A moment later she was on to yet another item. What about this, she asked pointing to lot number 60? "Isn't that the most magnificent cupboard you've ever seen? And, have you noticed the Quebec Ceinture fléchée? I paid $500. for it and had it for years and years. Even though it was packed away in a box, so nothing would happen to it, it gave me so much pleasure."
More of her recollections are documented in her book Diamond Buckles on My Shoes which was published in January, 2005 because of a request made by Ina, Marjorie's late sister. "You have to promise to do something for me," recalls Marjorie, of one particular conversation that took place the last time they saw each other. "I want you to keep a record of your life. When you are gone no one will know about us. So, my friend Thelma and I worked on that book for a few years."
For many who know and love Marjorie, the photograph of her as a young child on the cover, captures the essence of the book and the spirit of this great lady. Even then she had a presence and a sense of fashion, drama and play. The title of the book is a story in itself. "I would not buy a pair of shoes unless they had buckles on them. Even if they hurt my feet I had to have buckles. Dad said, when we went shopping once, he couldn't afford the shoes with buckles as they were five dollars more than the others. Finally, after a lot of dickering the man let Dad have them for them for the same price as the others. Afterwards he told us that one day I would have diamonds on my buckles."
Although excitement for the auction built up over the last week, some were privately concerned that Marjorie might have trouble watching her beloved collection disappear, however, she insisted on coming. Great planning went into her outfit. "I've got it all ready," she told me when I asked what she was wearing. "I bought it more than 35 years ago and only wore it two or three times. Scotts in London, Ontario was a very exclusive shop. Ina and I went in there one day and spotted this designer suit, made by Geiger in Sweden. It was $500 at that time. How outrageous of me to spend that kind of money on an outfit but I knew it was quality and would never go out of style. Doesn't the red blouse look lovely with it?" she asked as she held the suit up under her chin.
Sporting a lovely bright pink corsage, 
a jaunty black hat, and her favourite suit, Marjorie Larman was centre stage, in a comfy wing back chair looking like a queen. She was surrounded by friends and well wishers and had dozens of people asking for her autograph.
A week after the auction, she still felt the glow from the special day. Asked how it went she said : "It was the most wonderful event in the world. The compliments I got and the accolades were something. I'm so glad my treasures went to such high class collectors. I think I must have been quite a woman."
All of her family is gone: her parents, her sister Ina, with whom she was very close and Clarence, her beloved husband who must have been quite a man, too. Marjorie tells a story about Clarence that says a lot about their marriage and the respect they had for one another. "One day Clarence went up to a Government office and he didn't come home. Where was he? When he finally showed up he said that he went to the airport to watch the planes. He always wanted to fly but his father would not let him take lessons. If you really want to do something you need to do it, I told him." That was all the encouragement he needed. Not too long later he was a pilot. "He would fly every Sunday and I'd be out looking for antiques. You know what? He is up there flying around now, I'm sure of it. We had a beautiful relationship because we each had our own thing."
Sadly, the Larmons did not have any children, but one couple, Jim and Marie Sherman, turned out to be just like family. "Jim is the best of the best. Better than most relatives. You know, if I had children I would never have this kind of relationship with Jim and we would both have missed something special. I taught him tiny things but he taught me far more. Without him there would not have been a catalogue. Without him there would not have been an auction. Jim Sherman is the man."
Only her friends and family know about Marjorie Larmon's other great interest. Without shame and with much humility she flatly states that "I'm a natural born cook," Jim Sherman can attest to that too. Since plans for the auction were made public he says that almost everyone who knew Marjorie well, told him about their own particular favourite recipe.
Some of her creations, such as her Chili Sauce, German Mustard, Ginger Cookies, Stewed Rhubarb and Flour Pot Bread recipes are included in the last few pages of her book, but in my opinion it's missing a gem--her salmon mousse. Here, for the record is very likely the only surviving copy of Marjorie's heavenly Salmon Mousse; the very one she served me at lunch, that lovely summer day, so long ago.
Marjorie's Salmon Mousse:
Ingredients:
-one can salmon
-one envelope gelatin
-2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
-1/2 chopped celery
-1/2 cup low fat mayonnaise
-1/2 cup light sour cream (I use yogurt)
I replace the sour cream with yogurt and sometimes throw in a few tablespoons of chopped green onions.
Drain salmon but save juice and pour into measuring cup. Add enough water to make 1/2 cup of liquid and dissolve the contents of the gelatin envelope into the mixture. Dump everything into bowl, mix gently and place into a mold.
Marjorie served the mousse on lettuce and each individual portion had a quarter of the mold, along with salad and bread. I have adapted the recipe a little by turning it into an appetizer. When set, and just before serving, I carefully remove it from the mold and place on a plate, surrounded with crackers and a sprinkle of greenery such as basil leaves. Whichever way you serve this mousse it is divine.
There is only one way to conclude this article about one of Canada's most gracious and colourful antique dealers, and that is with Marjorie Larmon's own words spoken at the end of my visit with her, days before the auction: "I have had one of the most fantastic lives. How lucky am I?"
