Oodles and oodles

Plucky

There's nothing sweeter than late-blooming flowers. The ones that pop up unexpectedly, that didn't get the memo that the growing season is over.

The ones that are unassuming, that don't require any fussing, that prefer to stay out of the spotlight.

Ones that keep on keeping on, because the alternative would be - not keeping on.

Plucky, reliable, friendly, humble.

Not surprisingly, also the kind of people I like.

No sales Saturday, but a good day nonetheless: the whole day outdoors, raking leaves, cleaning out gardens, battening down the hatches for the storm on the way. An eight-hour shift of hard work, fresh air, measurable progress. All kinds of woodpeckers have returned to the yard. A fox watched me from the hedgerow and didn't run away when I talked to him.

Should you be on the interstate today, somewhere between Pittsburgh and Syracuse, watch out for a taupe minivan heading north - my parents attempting to get here before the big storm arrives. I'm looking forward to a week of wind and rain and good food and family time. In the words of the old hymn - all is safely gathered in, ere the winter storms begin. 

It's not my picker, it's the sales

The sales the past few weeks have been just awful. October's usually one of my big buying months. This month it's been a big month to save money. I know I get pickier every year, but there's been nothing to even tempt me out to look the last few weeks.

This morning's lineup of sales looked equally bleak. However, I had a mid-morning doctor's appointment, and I would almost have had to go out of my way to avoid them.

I went to the first sale mostly because I'm fond of the couple running it, and it fit into my schedule. I found nothing at all there. The second sale was a fluke, because I had not seen any ads for it, but there were signs all over the place. It seemed less an estate sale than a sale for a business that might have closed its doors years before and at one time sold frog collectibles. The last sale, after the doctor's appointment, sounded from the ad like the best bet of the day. It was very, very odd. I could not figure out if it was a home, a restaurant, a bar, or an exercise studio ... there were elements of all of those. It seemed as if someone was still living in the house (or restaurant/bar/exercise studio). Also, nobody seemed to be in an especially good mood.

All I could find was the jack o'lantern in the first photo, and a few Christmas items - glow in the dark icicles, a single glass bead pick, a handful of tiny ornaments, and a stack of mesh Christmas stockings. The Christmas print back there is a tablecloth. Even the little spun-head matchbooks didn't really cheer me up. Three sales, and not enough to fill a grocery bag.

On a brighter note, my doctor pronounced me in fine health. (Not that I thought otherwise; it was one of those once-a-year deals and I was tempted to cancel.) I didn't ask him, but I think my internal sale picker is working just fine. It's not me. It's the sales. 

A top 10 list of my weekend

The top 10 realizations I've had since Thursday:

10. My dog will stay by my side no matter what.

9. I'm not as opposed to throwing a coat over my pajamas and going to a convenience store at 4 a.m. for Nyquil as I thought.*

8. Sorting buttons by color is sometimes just too hard.

7. Nobody really cares about the details of being sick. Even my mom didn't want to talk to me. ("You sound awful! Call me when you feel better!" Click.)

6 - 1. They only want you to feel better, and I am. Sadly, I have nothing to show for my weekend adventures because there were none. This means only that I will need to have twice as many this week.

* As to the 4 a.m. trip to the convenience store? I really wanted Nyquil. I really thought about going out to get it. I'm sure I wouldn't be the first person to show up looking terrible in search of medicine. But I just couldn't do it. My sense of propriety won out. This probably does not come as much of a surprise to you, but it did to me. 

 

 

 

Deadline oriented

Maybe you're not ready to look at anything Christmas related, and I can certainly see your point.

Maybe you think any day is a good day to look at anything Christmas related, and I'd agree with that, too.

If you'd given yourself a deadline of Oct. 15 to start stocking your Etsy shop with holiday merchandise, and you realized on Oct. 8 that was one week away, and you made your deadline, maybe you'd feel pretty good about yourself.

And maybe I am. You can peek here if you'd like.

Unappreciated

I sometimes get the sense that my family doesn't fully appreciate my bustling little online enterprise. I spent pretty much the whole weekend getting Christmas listings ready for Etsy. My parents are planning to visit soon, and I mentioned to my father on the phone tonight that his room will be very festive, since I'm arranging the merchandise as attractively as possible there. I think it looks really cute.

"I might just take one look and decide to go home," my father said. He's kind of a stickler about no-Christmas-before-Thanksgiving. I thought it best not to mention that I was considering hauling out the Santa pillowcases when I made up the bed for them. He really might just decide to leave.

The three of us drove out to have dinner with our college boy Friday night. The college boy also is known as the boy with eight working fingers, since two of them were crushed - I've seen the x-ray, and I do mean crushed - as he approached the tee to take his shot in a college golf tournament. The golfer ahead of him decided to take an unscheduled practice swing after taking his shot, and connected on his backswing with my son's hand.

We talked about things other than my need to find this other golfer and see how he'd like to have his season ended with a well-aimed swing. I mentioned that I had purchased about 10,000 buttons earlier in the week.

My daughter looked up from her chicken wing dip. "They're everywhere," she said. "Buttons. All over the house. You don't even want to come home."

She made it sound like you had to kick buttons out of the way to move from room to room. Admittedly, during the sorting process there were various trays in places that some might have felt were inconvenient, such as the dining room table. But it wasn't all that bad. Besides, the proceeds of such ventures are what pays for the chicken wing dip and whatnot. 

Anyway, in the excitement of buying all those buttons, I neglected to talk about my other big find of the day, which is a huge cupboard that is going to save me from buying one from Ikea. I like Ikea as much as anybody, but the thought of buying the cabinet I wanted from there nagged at me. I'm kind of a stickler for vintage. I had not visited Betsy's shop all summer, and I was in the mood for a drive. (Button buying does that to you.) Sure enough, soon as I walked in the door, I found exactly what I wanted. At about half the price of the one at Ikea. Even less, once Betsy mentioned that she'd just listed the cabinet on Craigslist for $40 less than the marked price.

As is so often the case, I can live with chippy paint, but I cannot live with ugly hardware, so I got right to work installing glass knobs.

And handles. Note sleeping dog on couch. He appreciates my efforts. Even if he doesn't, you know, actively participate.

Not quite moved into place, but I'm pretty pleased with it already. I haven't asked my family what they think. Sometimes it's best not to ask.

Progress

Not just sorted. But sorted. Washed. Arranged.

And photographed. (Well, some of them.)

Different combinations.

A variety of colors.

And some surprises, with Bakelite, celluloid and Lucite.

I'm selling a few lots on eBay starting Sunday night (you can always find me by my user name, kremisclub). I've got plans for the weekend. Most of which involve some stage of button sorting. I'm not complaining.

Stocking up for winter

It's been a long time since I stumbled across a supply of buttons. Possibly years. I bought some at the Bouckville show this summer, but it's not quite the same thrill as finding a cache unexpectedly.

So I was very excited to find a Mason jar filled with buttons Thursday. Usually jars filled with buttons have all kinds of useless and terrible-looking buttons. But this one was filled with the kind I like - bright colors and flowers and interesting shapes.

Clearly my button finder needs a little fine tuning, because upon realizing there were multiple jars, I thought: I should look these over and pick out the best one. Instead of instantly thinking: I should buy all of these.

Fortunately, I came to my senses in time. Ten quarts of vintage buttons, put up in Mason jars. I think this might be enough to get me through the winter months.

 

Good work habits

When you work for yourself and you goof off, you only cheat yourself.

So I've been working away today. Dinner made early and out of the way. Ornaments out and lined up for photos.

Thinking it wouldn't be so wrong to just throw a load of laundry in, but I'm not going to do it. I'm working.

Considered a walk when the sun came out and the leaves were shimmering, but I didn't. Head in the game. Take photos. Get ready to list. Wonder if I have enough. Wonder why I bought so much. The usual.

Work, work, work. Pleasant work, for the most part. But work. No goofing off.

Making a little collage out of ornament boxes and taking photos? Many photos? That wasn't goofing off. Give me a little time and I'll think of a reason how it was useful. Work-related. Nothing's coming to mind at the moment. Something will come to me. But right now I've got to get back to work.

Six ways to find great vintage fabric

If you want to find great vintage fabric, you have a number of options. One is to go to a thrift store. I've found great fabric at thrift stores. I've made roughly 5,000 thrift store visits in my lifetime, and probably 10 or 20 times I've found fabric I love. Which means at best I have found great vintage fabric at a thrift store on less than one half of one percent of all of my visits. This is not a return rate that inspires optimism.

I have yet to find an antique store that has great vintage fabric. Probably they exist. I just haven't found one. But if you have to go to an antique store (twist my arm) there's no harm in looking.

You can find great vintage fabric at large outdoor shows like Brimfield or Bouckville. I loved the fabric I got this year at Bouckville. I sold one of the feedsacks I bought there for 34.6 times what I paid for it. (That is not a made-up figure. I did the math.) Which is to say that if you study the market and take the time to look, you can find great stuff for resale at shows. Sadly, these shows only come around a few times a year.

You can find estate sales near you on sites like estatesales.net. You can arrive before dawn (4 a.m. is my earliest), wait in line, make the mad scramble through the door and find a treasure trove of fabric - or not. Sometimes the "vintage fabric" that is advertised consists of bins of polyester. Or 1980s quilting cotton from JoAnns. At best, a 50-50 proposition. More likely a 20-80 proposition. Plus I don't like to get up that early. Nobody in their right mind likes to get up that early.

You can find auctions through the web site auctionzip.com . I love auctions, and I love the fact that I can look over the listings in advance and assess whether an auction is worth attending. Auctions are more of an even playing field, in my opinion, and you can pretty much guarantee you're going to come home with what you went for - if you're willing to outbid your competitors. If the fabric is good enough, I'm in. I found some of my favorite fabrics and sewing supplies ever at this auction just down the road from me. I found the best feedsack in the world at this auction. I spent 11 hours at the nearby auction. I drove 500 miles to get to the other one. Auctions require commitment, stamina and sometimes a decent cash reserve. They're my favorite way to find fabric. Like shows, though, they don't happen often enough.

But all of the fabric you're seeing here came from one source. I did not have to travel to get it. I did not have to get up early to get it. I did not have to spend a frightening amount of money. In fact, I believe I was in my pajamas when I bought it. Yep, Etsy. Right now there are 44,801 listings for vintage fabric just in the "vintage" category on Etsy. There's probably more if you add the "supplies" category. And although buying fabric online can be a bit of a roll of the dice, I've never had a problem. My friend Patty has taught classes in fabric and quilt history, so I'm completely confident buying from her shop, which is where I found every piece you see here. But even if you don't know the seller, you can pretty much tell who the pros are.

(I've always had a soft spot in my heart for Little Red Riding Hood. My first Halloween costume.)

I would add my own three letters to this print: TDF.

From the Red Riding Hood print. I also have a soft spot for red polka-dotted mushrooms.

All I'm saying is: There's great stuff out there, if you're willing to look. And it might be easier to find sometimes than you think.

 

 

 

 

Fond farewells

It's a bittersweet time of year. Pretty leaves, cloudy skies. Hot mulled cider, chilly weather. All those lovely Christmas ornaments I acquired over the summer, ready to go out in the world.

The time of year when I wonder if it would really be so wrong to keep another box of ornaments.

Or two.

Maybe just a little set of Santas?

Or the snowmen?

(OK, the snowmen are kind of killing me. I did keep one for myself. Even so ...)

Anyway, my first batch of Christmas ornaments are hitting eBay this week, with more to come. (I was going to say that I'll open for Christmas on Etsy on Oct. 15, but holy cow, that's a week from tomorrow! Maybe 15ish.)

I'm going to go spend some quality time with the snowmen now.