Oodles and oodles

Get 'Spring Fever'!

Time to switch my attention from the flower beds to the vegetable garden. I usually manage to slip in a few flowers there, too.

I'll definitely be making room for these zinnias, which were a nice surprise from Mary Kay Andrews ...

An even better surprise: her new book!

Want a copy? I've got one to give away. Just leave a comment below. If you want another chance to win, go 'like' my new Oodles and Oodles Facebook page. I'll pick a winner Sunday night.

And as much as I want to read (I'm about halfway through, and it is really, really difficult to not read just one more chapter!) it's back to the garden for me. Good luck!

 

 

 

The truth about barn wood

I've had a lot of time to think over the past week or ten days, and I've come to some conclusions. One involves barn wood. The farther you are away from barn wood, the more you love it. If you live in Brooklyn, for example, you are crazy mad in love with barn wood. If you grew up on a farm, like my dad, barn wood doesn't do much for you. It's just the stuff that's on the side of the barn.

Me, I'm somewhere in between, although definitely leaning more toward my dad's point of view. I've had all this time to think because I've been doing 12-hour stints of mindless work: power washing, scraping, priming, painting, weeding. We're having both sides of the family visit in two weeks to celebrate my daughter's high school graduation, and what better time to condense a few years' worth of work into a few weeks? This is the 'before' photo of one of the more satisfying projects, involving the shed.

And the 'after,' which only took part of one of the 12-hour shifts. I'm hoping that by the time the family arrives, some of those flowers will be popping (and the vining black-eyed susan that looked so large at the nursery will be climbing up the trellis.)

A special shout-out to the heirloom yellow rose bush, which exploded with blossoms this week and is setting a good example for its neighboring flowers.

Other things I did this week:
- Power-washed pretty much every surface.
- Weeded and mulched the flower beds.
- Mowed a whole lot of grass.
- Scraped and painted the front porch floor.
- Painted the trim and wall on another side of the shed.
- Scraped and primed the back wall of the house.
- Gave thanks for a pop-up thunderstorm this morning, which seemed like a good reason to not paint the back wall of the house today.

Things I realized this week:

- Not a fan of biologic diversity. No more had the maple seeds stopped falling than the fuzzy things on the walnut trees started. There is always something to sweep/rake/curse at around here.
- I hate bicyclists. They ride on our road all the time. Where are they getting this free time? Shouldn't they be power-washing or painting something?
- I'm so glad I have a job to go to tomorrow because, at least as far as I know, I won't have to rake, shovel, scrape or paint anything.

On the subject of tomorrow - I have something excellent to give away (not my chamomile crop, which looks like about enough for one pot of tea). Stop back and all will be revealed.

 

 

 

 

Something extra

Do you think you'd enjoy grocery shopping more if you could buy your flour in bags like this?

This company didn't rely just on a pretty image of biscuits. They offered a little something extra on the back of the bag.

A stamped embroidery square for spring ...

and summer. I love that they have a little girl fishing. This was pretty clever marketing on the company's part, since customers were sure to return for the fall and winter squares.

I got a stack of plain colored feedsacks, all of which were stamped with this. Cute image.

But I think this floral print would make a prettier dress.

And for ease of sewing, you can't beat buying a bag of Globe flour.

With a dress pattern stamped right on the back.

I hope we can still be friends if I do nothing but blog about feedsacks. I'm going to try to go to some sales this weekend, but I kind of want to stay home with my new collection.
 

An all-American lineup

The view from my ironing board, where I expect to spend most of the coming summer. These are feedsacks printed with a classic picnic tablecloth pattern.

Available in a range of colors. I think I'm going to hem up most of these for tablecloths - some for me, some for Etsy. Making a feedsack tablecloth is about the easiest thing in the world.

In an attempt to break this collection into manageable parts, I thought I'd try to pick a theme. Today's is all-American feedsacks.

Feedsacks don't get much more patriotic than this one. It's still sewn into a sack.

These red, white and blue drums are pretty patriotic, too.

And what could be more all-American than a soda fountain print?

A good old-fashioned quilt print. This is "cheater cloth," printed to look like a pieced quilt.

Had to show you this tag I found sewn to one of the sacks (the couple whose collections were auctioned yesterday sold at shows.) Love this kind of thing. (Somebody, quick, do the math: If 34 million tons of feed were packed in feedsacks, and a full-size feedsack held 100 pounds, how many feedsacks does that make? And where are they?) (I think it's 680 million, but I'm more of a word person than a numbers person.)

Another cheater. There were three of these, but I'm keeping one for myself. In the unlikely case that I need a project. I think quilting this would be pretty fun (not to mention easy). Both of these cheater feedsacks, by the way, are in my Etsy shop. I'll be listing others on eBay, to start tonight and Sunday night. (The link is in the sidebar, if you want to check and see how fast I can wash, iron and photograph feedsacks. Or you can just take my word for it: Not nearly as quickly as I wish.)

I'll leave you with this all-American feedsack, not for its colors but its motif.

A pioneer log cabin.

And that all-American hero, Daniel Boone. Or Davy Crockett. It could be either one of them.

 

Best auction ever

I bought this feedsack at an auction today. It might be the cutest feedsack print ever.

Unless this one is.

I don't take my camera to auctions because I'm afraid of misplacing it. If I'd taken it, though, you'd see a photo of a lovely old farm stretched out across gentle hills on a country road, with a series of Burma Shave signs posted along the way. The couple who lived at the farm collected Burma Shave signs.

Most of the stuff that was for sale was farm equipment, so there were lots of nice old farm guys there, several of whom reminded me of my Uncle Don, who's a retired farmer.

The auction was exceptionally well organized and moved right along.

There was fun stuff to look at, like an enormous collection of tractor seats.

It was a little far away, but it was a nice day for a drive, and I was there in a little more than an hour.

I'm bringing out the aprons to rate this auction, and right now we're up to five.

And another one, because I love, love, love midweek auctions.

Besides tractor seats and Burma Shave signs, the couple collected grain sacks and feedsacks. I've never seen so many grain sacks in my life. There were thousands, some flax, some muslin, some burlap. Rice sacks, corn sacks, horse feed sacks, grass seed sacks. Most of them were purchased by a man who flew in from California just to buy the grain sacks. But he wasn't interested in the feedsacks.

Lack of formidable competition is always a plus.

But a perfect auction is a ten-apron auction, and we're lacking three.

So how about an apron for a big, big box of feedsack scraps?

Also, I forgot to award an apron for the really cute feedsacks.

That just leaves us one apron short.

I think buying 190 full feedsacks merits an apron, though.

That's a ten. A great auction. I can't imagine going to one that's better. And I can't wait to show you some of these feedsacks. They're amazing. 

 

 

 

Firsts

First lilies of the valley.

First time the apple trees we planted have blossomed.

First quilt purchase of the season.

May really is a good month.

Three things I didn't expect to buy

There's nothing better than an on-site auction at a nice old house. Like an estate sale, it offers a lifetime's worth of stuff. Unlike an estate sale, you get to name your own price. This can be a good thing or a bad thing. It's a great thing when you can move out of your usual comfort zone and snap up some bargains. Like this Weller planter.

Pretty piece, and it's a good incentive to do a little research on Weller.

I ended up with this box of frames because I wanted one thing in the lot. You know how that is. These are the frames that are left after I pulled out the too-ugly- and too-broken-to-fool with.

This is the one thing I wanted, and it wasn't even the frame that I wanted, but what was inside it. I need a little blogland help here, though - this frame has three distinct layers and is several inches deep. Not my taste at all, but it is pretty, and I don't know if there's a particular name for this kind of style.

What I wanted was the photo inside the frame.

Complete with documentation.

The arrangement under the tree is amazing - the dolls, and the teacup and saucer, and the books and die cuts ... every time I look at it, I see something different. Marjorie's family knew how to do Christmas.

There were some other photographs, too. Talk about formidable ancestors.

My daughter took one look at this woman and pronounced her "terrifying."

The third thing I didn't expect to buy was a box of type. Most of the letters were huge (close to 6 inches) and had a beautiful wood patina. I put the terrifying portrait and some of the type in my new Etsy shop, Vintage NE. (It had what we call a soft opening a couple of weeks ago and is for the more rustic farm and camp stuff that I like but that kind of clashes with pretty vintage housewares.) Anyway, some of the letters were snapped up instantly, so I was glad I lugged (and I do mean lugged) the box home.

There was a cigar box full of smaller type inside the big box, and if you look closely, you'll see why I bought it. It was calling my name.