Oodles and oodles

The magical world of Minibrix!

I constructed this tiny brick cottage all by myself.

 
All I needed was a set of Minibrix!

 
I'd never heard of Minibrix before purchasing two boxes of them last weekend. (I'm selling them, along with a bunch of other stuff I got last weekend, on eBay this week.) They're like Legos, only made of rubber. They're very heavy (if you've ever had to hoist a spare tire, you know how heavy rubber is) and they smell like the new-tire section of Sears. Which is not an unpleasant smell, necessarily, although not one normally associated with children's toys. I haven't tried this out, but I bet it hurts a lot less to step on one of these in your bare feet in the middle of the night than it does when you step on a Lego.

 
Minibrix were manufactured at a rubber factory in England between 1935 and 1976, with a break, of course, for World War II. Reading up on them (here's an excellent article) gave me a big old case of Anglophile Fever, from which I shall endeavour to recover whilst I complete this post. (I think that got it out of my system.) One of the articles I read commented upon the box illustration, in which the boy works while the girl looks on.

 
Sure enough, the illustration endured through the years. One can almost imagine the backstory: Since no other children save Henry lived in the village of Twistleton-upon-Lunds, Emma eagerly awaited his return on school holiday. They took turns riding Emma's old pony, Buttertubs, and played Noughts and Crosses, but there was nothing Emma enjoyed more than a rainy afternoon in the nursery, watching Henry create splendid buildings with his set of Minibrix. "I wish I were half as clever as you, Henry," Emma would say.

 
Oh, come on, Emma. Henry's a twit and you know it. It's a lot more fun to make your own buildings, like this plucky girl and her Tudor mansion. Having built one tiny Minibrix cottage, I can say with some authority that it might take several years to make either of the models pictured here. Not to mention the actual recreation of Buckingham Palace (13,611 parts, 205 pounds) shown in the booklet.

 

 

Sparkling and shining

 
It's a sure sign of addiction when I say I can't believe how long it's been since I could post a picture like this one, and it turns out it's been maybe a month. I didn't go back to check. The area designated for this year's Christmas ornaments already has been expanded upon once, and it may need to be expanded upon again. These came from Friday's estate sale.

 
At this point in my addiction career, I can look in a box and recognize right off the bat what ornaments there are and about what they're worth. (Side note: I was looking on eBay the other night and saw a box of 12 ornaments in a Shiny Brite box that sold for a lot of money. Except not a single one of them was a Shiny Brite, even though that's how they were described. There even was one that was a West German ornament with a plastic cap! This kind of inaccuracy keeps me awake at night.)

 
No matter how many boxes of ornaments I buy, there are always a few surprises inside. Like this glass mushroom that clips on the end of a tree branch. It was made in Germany. Know how I know? Because when I looked at it, I thought it looked German. And then I turned it upside down and looked on the metal clip, which said Germany. It's such satisfying work, this ornament collecting.

 
Look at those colors. I really don't want to put it away until Christmas.

 
And although I have quite a few of these handpainted ornaments (Poland) I've never seen this one.

 
Although I have some of these metal ribbon icicles, I've never seen the box they come in. It's sensational! (It says so, right on the left side.) I'm looking forward to putting my entire collection in the box. I'm abnormally excited at this prospect. Over there on the left is a big pink icicle ornament, and on the right is some fabulous tinsel - pink with little bits of batting.

 
And my favorite, a glass bead wreath. (I should have hung it in a window so you could see all of the extensions trailing down, but use your imagination.) I have tried to recreate these but never have quite gotten them right, possibly because I didn't have a model to work from. I love these so much I have a picture of one bookmarked in one of my old Christmas magazines. Not that I think that's a sign of obsession or anything.

 

House tour

 
We weren't really in the market for a new house, but that was before I found the perfect place.

 
The red and white striped awnings are what first caught my eye.

 
I liked what I found inside, too. Check out this view from the kitchen windows!

 
It was nice of the previous owners to leave behind their pastel dishes. And their juicer.

 
The living room will be perfect on those cool fall nights. The decor is a little colonial for my tastes, but that's easy enough to fix.

 
I've always wanted a fireplace in the master bedroom.

 
The bathroom is tiny, but it's got all of the basics.

 
The kids will have to share a bedroom, but I'm sure they won't mind.

 
Especially since they have these nice cubbies where they can keep their toys.

 
How old is it? Oh, fifty-something. I think it was built in 1952 or 1953. Remember the bank I showed you yesterday, by Marx? They built this house, too.

 
Upstairs or downstairs, inside or out, it's a wonderful place.

 

A stellar Saturday

 
Saturday's sales were so good that finding a Swanky Swig in a color I didn't already have was almost incidental.

 
Not only was there a lot of stuff, but there was a lot of inexpensive stuff. The weather was great. People just seemed to be in a good mood, and it was a fun day. Plus, I love it when things all look nice together, although getting a canister set and matching breadbox is really more than anyone should expect.

 
It was a two-canister-set kind of Saturday, that's how good it was. As luck would have it, I already own this particular set, so I can swap out the non-matching lid on the coffee canister, which in this photo is making me absolutely crazy. Those are little tomato juice glasses, which came from the same sale as the Swanky Swig.

 
Also from that sale: these hangers, which are the sweetest things I've ever seen. Even all chippy and worn like the two in the back are, they're just wonderful.

 
Love the graphics on this bank. It was made by Marx, which uses that circular logo to the bottom right of the Capitol - the MAR, with the big X through it. Marx made some great toys, and this bank is just one of the Marx finds from the weekend.

 
And this pair, which came from a box of jumble. The combination just made me laugh. Then again, pretty much everything made me happy this weekend.




 

 

A post in which the ! will be overused

 
Finally! A sale that was worth going to! Here are three quick things that I found today and loved: one, barkcloth printed with trains!

 
Linen toweling, still on the bolt!

 
And a geranium tablecloth,

 
with lots of fold lines because

 
it was in the original package!

And the Christmas stuff is still in the car! And there are lots of promising sales tomorrow!

Have I used up today's allotment of exclamation points?

A mystery box

 
Tell you what. I'll show you what's in this box if you help me figure out what's in another box. I would want this box even if it were empty, but it wasn't.

 
It was filled with old, old quilt squares.

 
Underneath the pile of tiny squares were about 40 humble four-square blocks, most with a homespun square or two.

 
This red print is wonderful.

 
So are these.

 
These little squares were strung together on lengths of thread. There are hundreds of them.

 
Here's the other box. It's about the size of a recipe box, only the proportions are slightly different.

 
It's filled with these little cylinders, each with a letter or number on the end. There's a complete set of letters, an ampersand, and the numbers 1 through 0. (The 6 and 9 are made with the same piece.) Oh, and the box weighs a ton. It's really heavy for its size.

 
Here's what one looks like. But what are they? Some kind of embossing tools? I can't figure out enough about them to do even a reasonable search. I'd welcome any ideas.

 
Meanwhile, here's how the first day of school looked at our place. We took the standard looking-at-the-camera-smiling photos, but I like this one best.

Back to school

 
It's the first day of school around here, so it seemed like a good time to show you these. Know what they are?

 
They're the cards to a vintage lotto game. They're just wonderful... the drawings, the colors, the typeface.

 
I'm going to keep some to frame, and the rest I'll sell on Etsy.

 
It will be hard to decide which to keep, but this one's definitely in the running. Are any of you wallpaper executives? If so, could you just print these images on rolls of wallpaper so I can have a room full of them?

 
I want to get tiny frames for these and hang them in the bathroom.

 
I'm fond of these, too.

I don't like the first day of school. I loved it when I was a kid: the pleated skirts and cardigans, new boxes of crayons and fresh tablets. When I went to first grade, our seating was according to academic ability. The smartest kid was in the first seat, first row, and on it went, around the room, to the poor kid in the last seat, last row. They were less sensitive times.

My friend Richard Fisher was in the first seat. I sat right behind him. Sadly, Richard's family moved not long after the school year began, and although I was sorry to see my friend go, I got over it pretty fast. I had other friends. And I got to be first seat, first row! I was Number One! What were the chances that the only person sitting between me and academic dominance would move out of the school district? No wonder I loved school. It started out so well for me.

Anyway, for a whole host of reasons, I don't like adjusting to the beginning of the school year now. It just leaves me glum. I love summer, and I love fall, but the transition between the two is a tough one for me.

 
I feel a little happier when I look at these, though.
 

Dogs, dents and things that go bump in the night

 
Looks like slim pickings around here this weekend (heaven forbid anyone would want to have a sale on Labor Day weekend just to make me happy) so it's a good time to catch up on last weekend. I should warn you that there are some scary pictures ahead, in case any of you want to turn back now.

 
These puppy pictures are from a classroom poster titled "The History of Dogs." I'm pretty much in love with it. The first photo shows my favorite breed (Brittany, #49, like my sweet Carson), and this photo has some adorable terriers. I believe some of you are fond of Scotties (#76) and Yorkies (#86). The Dandie Dinmont (#83) is a pretty rare breed, but by odd coincidence I was introduced to two of them this morning, and boy, are they cute.

 
Here's the poster in its entirety. One member of the dog family that is not on it is the coyote. I mention this because our house apparently is located between two rival families of coyotes, and they have been waking me up every night with their yipping. If you know anything about coyotes (and really, why would you?) you know that it only takes five or six of them to make it sound as if your home is ringed by hundreds of them.

 
These old "Grow More Trees" decals came from the same sale as the poster. It was a completely fun sale with all kinds of signs and fun graphic things. I think this would look great in a rustic frame, hanging on the wall of a cabin in the Adirondacks. I lack only the rustic frame and the cabin. It's a start.

 
Speaking of trees, you may recall me mentioning the $10 Christmas tree that I was hauling around in my trunk this week. It's now in my scary shed, so let's walk out and see it. It doesn't seem very scary yet, does it? That's because we haven't opened the door. Before we open the door, we knock. The shed is not entirely critter-proof, and I live in constant fear (well, it's crossed my mind) that something uninvited might be living in there. Not coyotes, necessarily. But even a chipmunk rustling around would startle me, so I like to knock.

(Sound effects: Knock, knock. Thump. (That's me kicking the door, which sticks because it's humid.) Cree-eeee-eeee-aaaa-k. (Rusty hinges.))

 
AAAUUUGGGHHH! (Sound effect: music from shower scene in 'Psycho.')

 
Since nobody in their right mind would want to go further, I'm providing a handy key to what we're seeing here. It's kind of the scratch-and-dent department: things that need to be spruced up or fixed before they go anywhere, including 1) shelves that need to be painted 2) glass caddy that I don't quite know what to do with 3) tiny drop-leaf table in need of veneer repair 4) old old old handmade dollhouse 5) plant stand going in antique mall case next spring 6) various shelves 7) drop leaf table shedding red paint, in need of new coat of paint 8) nice porch table too cheap ($3) to pass up 9) quilt rack that's in fine shape but no place to put it right at the moment 10) mini-Hoosier that needs veneer repair and paint and 11) poured concrete floor, which as far as I've gotten in my plan to turn this space into something really great.

 
And hiding behind the door is the $10 Christmas tree. Is that not the worst aluminum tree you've ever seen? Nonetheless, I was excited to find it because I can use the branches to make a wreath like this one.

 
Speaking of wreaths, I got a box of baubles for wreaths. I was especially happy to find those silver leaves, which I don't find nearly often enough.

 
Possibly the world's worst example of plastic doily craft. (I think this post has my highest number to date of horrifying photos.) The pincushion has since been rescued.

 
And some miscellaneous stuff. The signs and the birdhouse shelf (and the folding yardstick you can barely see on the white table) came from the fun sale where I got the poster and decals. The shelves need to be painted, and then I think I'll use them for display in my showcase. The table was free at the dump, and as soon as I saw it, I knew what I would do with it.

I could put it right in the shed with all of the other tables.