Oodles and oodles

Liking my chances

What are the chances of visiting a store a full month after my last visit and finding two feedsacks in exactly the same spot I found two feedsacks before?

Apparently very good!

What are the chances I'm going to be looking for more boxes of keys to sell? Also very good!

What are the chances I'm going to have to remove most of the dining room furniture to take Etsy photos today?

Also excellent!

What are the chances the nasty stains are going to come out of the quilt top I bought last week? It's looking good! (The quilt is sunning itself right now, so you'll have to use your imagination. This will help: It's orange and white, hand-pieced, and I try not to think how wonderful it would look with my vintage Halloween decorations because I'm planning to sell it.)

What are the chances that Friday will be fun? Pretty good, because I'm visiting this shop.

I think I should go buy a lottery ticket.

 

 

The color of sunshine

 

I seemed to find a lot of yellow on Friday. This is a detail from a dotted-swiss housecoat.

And the detail on an apron.

A Vera calendar towel.

This pattern book only has a little bit of yellow on the cover but it put me in a sunshiny mood. It's from 1935 and has dozens of some of the best handbag patterns I've ever seen. It's destined for Etsy, probably later this week.

And even if it had been a gray day (which it wasn't), it would have brightened with a vintage Liberty handkerchief, still in the package. (I run hot and cold on the Liberty prints at Target: some I like, some not so much. This one, I definitely like.)

I'm off to an extremely important appointment: with my hairdresser, whom I haven't seen in three months. At this point, Carson is better groomed than I am. I will probably have to celebrate my new look by hitting some thrift stores afterward.   

 

The sum and the parts

Sometimes I buy things because I like just one part. This plastic-straw hat and the netting to tie it on? Hmm, not so much. Those flowers are another story.
 
They're a perfect little corsage just pinned to the brim.
 
The felt and rickrack door hanger? Definitely not a keeper.
 
The pixie is, though. (I had a three-pixie outing on Friday. That's pretty good, for me.)

Sometimes the parts add up to more than I expected. All of the following came from a simple paper envelope purchased for 10 cents at the same sale that yielded the corsage and the pixie. We begin with a clipping from a 1951 issue of The American Weekly. Why did Mrs. Barton (you'll know in a minute how I know her name) keep this particular page? Did she suffer from Smoker's Cough? Or did she, like Edna, suffer from Dismal Periodic Pain? No, she did not. Mrs. Barton was interested in Pattern 3805, a "three-piece ensemble to add to your spring wardrobe." But Mrs. Barton wasn't sure if she was really the bolero-wearing type. You see, the clipping is dated January 28, 1951...
 

and more than three months would elapse before Mrs. Barton finally rolled a piece of paper into her manual typewriter and wrote to The American Weekly Pattern Department. By this time, she had to be concerned about a shortage of size 14 bolero patterns, and the horror of some file clerk in New York thinking she might wear a size 16. From all of this, we can take a lesson: When it comes to boleros, it does not pay to procrastinate.
 
The pattern arrived, and one can see why Mrs. Barton was intrigued. Just look at the slimming lines of that skirt and shirt. And the bolero! With a faux cuff and collar to match the shirt! And an option for short sleeves!
 
And, oh happy day, still available in a size 14!

But that is where our tale is about to end. Because in the same envelope with the clipping and the letter were all of the pattern pieces, still as neatly folded as when they left The American Weekly Pattern Department. Mrs. Barton never used the pattern. We'll never know why. Perhaps after months of flirting with the idea, she realized that she really was not the type to wear a bolero. Or maybe her next-door neighbor came over for coffee, saw the pattern and said, "Oh! A bolero! Are people still wearing those?"

The most likely explanation, though, is that in the time between ordering the pattern and the time it arrived, Mr. Barton surprised Mrs. Barton with the news that they would be spending the summer abroad: Spain, then Italy, then Switzerland. But first they would be going to Paris so that Mrs. Barton could be fitted for a new wardrobe. And that's why she didn't use the pattern. You may have a different idea, but I know that when I don't get around to finishing a project, there's usually a fabulous surprise and international travel involved.  

The yard sale season begins

This isn't something I'd want to admit to just anyone, but I suffer from the occasional bout of insomnia, and when I woke up at 4 a.m. today as I so often do, the words "yard sales!" immediately came to mind. I was pretty sure that none of them started at 4:30 a.m., so I willed myself to go back to sleep, much as I did when I was four years old and wanted to get up too early on Christmas morning.

I think what I actually told myself was that yard sales are not anything to get that worked up about because most of them are terrible, and early on, that proved to be right. The first sale was a bust, and I bumped into a pair of antique dealers I just don't like. The second one, with an ad that made it sound like the sale of the century, had a big sign out that said "Sorry! Come back at 10!" I hate when people do that. That setback, however, allowed me to refine and confirm a theory, which I will share with you some other time because it's very valuable. I had 40 minutes to burn before a church rummage sale began, and since I hadn't been to Lowe's in the past 12 hours, I went and bought more bricks.

And then I went to the church rummage sale, and it was great. I bought a pink chenille bedspread (you had figured that out, right?), which has a few issues, which is actually good because I want it for the fabric.
 
I might not have bought this apron, except ...

it came with a pint-sized companion piece, which was so tiny and sweet I couldn't resist.
 
My new knitting book will help me create fashionable headgear and ...
 
it will enable me to use up my supply of vintage sequins. "Sparking Sequins are in style!" When were they ever out of style?

I completely missed the Christmas table my first go-round, but fortunately there was plenty left: bells...
 
tiny bottle brush trees and little do-dads (I never can tell if something like this is old, so I just look for a bar code, and if there isn't one, I buy it.) and...
 
pixie heads. And then it was on to the next sale, which was even better, but that will have to wait until I unload the car and get some work done around here.
   
 

One project done, 9,999 to go

Here's the before phase of my project Wednesday, which was to make a brick landing at the bottom of the deck stairs and edge the flower beds with brick. Don't you love the before phase? Everything seems so do-able. The sun is shining, you're filled with energy, you have a vision of how well (and how quickly!) your project will proceed. Your muscles aren't strained yet, nor have you realized that you're going to need to make yet another trip to Lowe's because your guess of how many bricks the project will require (24) is woefully short of the actual number (62).

But you know, the after phase of a project is pretty sweet, too. Unlike so many other things that we do (cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc.), a big project lasts. It's there when you get up in the morning. It won't have to be done all over again next week. (Unless you've really messed it up.) And with that, here's my completed project, with an advisory for any of you who may suffer from vertigo: You're about to see the first aerial photo in Oodles and Oodles history.

I can't wait to plant some annuals along that edge. And maybe get a container for the landing. And for the perennials to fill in. Basically, I can't wait for all of that spring stuff to happen. I have to keep reminding myself that it's only the middle of April, because we've had such fabulous weather already. The edging is recycled brick, mined from my very own junkyard. I was feeling very Earth-Day about that.

 
 
Since I was hanging out a second story window anyway, I thought I'd show you a different view of the bluebird houses. There's a bluebird sitting on the middle post, but you're probably going to just have to take my word for that. The two that have claimed the box on the left seem to be getting pretty comfortable having me around so much, so I'm hoping to get better photos of them.

 

Finally, a photo of my favorite brick. (Doesn't everyone have a favorite brick?) This one is inscribed with the words Bessemer / Youngstown Block, and I found it on a walk around my parent's house in Pennsylvania. My grandpa worked for the Bessemer and Lake Erie Railroad, and that's why I like it so much.
 
I also planted two shrubs, two mock orange bushes and a rosebush yesterday, so maybe I have only 9,996 projects to go. And I am definitely going to a couple of sales Friday. And if not Friday, then Saturday for sure. 

Inspiration

I have a stepstool exactly like this, except I never thought to paint it like that.

 

I don't need any vases, but I want these.

 

A source for green glass hardware!

 

How hard could it be to make this? Especially if I got someone near and dear to me to make it?

 

Before the demise of so many of my favorite magazines, I never paid attention to my husband's This Old House magazine. Now I take it before he gets a chance to grab it. This month's issue is particularly good: garden ideas and a vintage kitchen. All kinds of ideas. As if I needed any more.
 
It's another day of garden work for me. For the second time in five days, I'm choosing to stay home instead of going out to a sale. I hope we're all still going to be friends.


  
   

Plants, projects and bad or lazy pets

The house filled up with peat pots this weekend. I'm obsessed with gardening this year. I went to one sale Friday and was about to drive to another when it occurred to me I could be working outside instead, and so I went home. You recognize the magnitude of this shift, I'm sure.


One of my hopes this year is to improve the views from inside. See the bluebird houses over there? I'm pretty sure we have a couple interested in one of the houses; I saw a bluebird with a long piece of grass in its beak sitting atop one of the posts.

I have a project that's going to take a couple of weekends on the other side of the house. (See up there in the upper right corner?) It doesn't look like much yet, and in fact, it may not look like much when it's done. That's because it looks so bad now that just getting it to look not-horrible is going to take a lot of effort. (And brush cutting!) I'll have to do some before and after photos to explain.
 
The sale I went to was at a place that has a sale every spring, and although I don't usually get much, it's a fun place to poke around. I did find some super-sized Shiny Brites, though.

Lazy pet #1: Polly. I probably can count on one hand the number of times we've left the bed unmade in our adult lives. Sometimes, though, I have to leave a corner unmade because I can't bear to move somebody who's that comfortable. (She's not grumpy, despite the expression. Just barely awake.)
 
Lazy pet #2: Carson, who was so exhausted at the thought of Mr. Oodles outside planting apple trees and me planting all those seeds that he took a nap in our honor.

Thanks, buddy!

Bad pet: That dog next door. Not only did I spot from the window a freshly dug hole in the hosta bed, I found the beast that created it at the scene of the crime. Alternate title for this photo: Exhibit A in my pending civil suit.  

Never enough sewing notions

 

Wednesday was a great day to work at home. I assembled some sewing boxes for my Etsy shop, which required me to bring numerous jars of buttons and boxes of trims and fabric into the dining room. From the dining room windows I can see out to our side yard, the spot favored by birds, so I spent the afternoon with two of my favorite things, sewing notions and birds.

 

The bluebirds have been back to check out the boxes, and we also are getting regular visits by a pair of flickers and a tufted titmouse. When I wasn't distracted by birds, I filled vintage cigar boxes with an assortment of fabric and trim and tape measures and scissors and what-not. (The red one has been spoken for already.)


I tried to give each of them a different personality. (Sure sign you need to get out more: thinking about the various personalities of the sewing boxes you're making.)


This one has a cheerful, sunny personality, with yellow and white quilt squares and a yellow flowered feedsack.


And this one is sensible and sweet in shades of blue. Call me crazy, but one of my favorite things in here is the packet of pins, just in front of the Sewing Susan needle book. There's just something very general-store like about a paper of pins.

So now that you have the general idea of what my day was like yesterday, kind of calm and measured and pleasant, you'll understand why I'm so mystified by the fact that I woke up this morning with a knee injury. There was nothing wrong with it when I went to bed. This morning it's red and swollen and painful. "I hear that Etsy stuff can get pretty rough," my husband commented, without what I considered to be an appropriate amount of concern. It would be funny if the pain became unbearable, say, just around the time I usually start dinner.

 

This needle book kind of made my day. I've had it for a long time but never really looked closely at the illustration. Check out the supplies the plane is airlifting! 
   
  

Rooms for rent

As our previous tenants can attest,

the accommodations we provided were cozy, but rustic.

 

That's why we're pleased to announce the Spring 2010 availability of Bluebird Estates, attractive and affordable lodging for the discerning bluebird. From the moment you spot the picket-fence pole and cheerful blue exterior, you'll feel right at home. Enjoy the newly planted forsythia, which represents just the beginning of our landscaping efforts.



Our acres of open lawn provide multiple dining opportunities, perfect for you and your growing family. No need to worry about eviction: with three houses, the tree swallows have a choice of accommodations, leaving you and your family in peace. No foreclosure worries, either: Your monthly payments are a song! (Literally.)

 

If you're interested, don't delay.

 
 
These homes have been on the market only one day, and already they're drawing interest.
  

Weekend projects

 
Checked off the to-do list:
- Clean out rest of flower beds
- Edge flower beds
- Prune lilac and mock orange

 
- Clean house
- Straighten up linen closet
- Pull everything out of linen closet, since not so much as one more tiny doily will fit inside. Discover that 75 percent of what's inside doesn't belong there. Find new home for it. Decide it would be fun to wallpaper inside of linen closet and repaint it. Take before-and-after photos, knowing full well there is no light in the hallway and the photos will be awful.
-  Six hours after beginning linen closet project, resolve to stop reading articles about freshening up your closets for spring.
- Tackle laundry that results from linen closet project.


- Pack up winter clothes and get out spring/summer clothes.
- Finish laundry resulting from linen closet project; tackle laundry that results from seasonal wardrobe switchover project.
- Ten loads of laundry later, resolve to wear nothing but oxford-cloth shirts and khaki pants every day, year-round.


- Paint bluebird boxes.

 
- Realize that the bluebird house project (the only project I really, really, really wanted to get done this weekend) cannot be finished because some very specific hardware is needed, and no one has the energy to drive to Lowe's (for what would be the third time in two days) to purchase said hardware.
- Wonder where the weekend went.