Oodles and oodles

Gimme an H

I'm not sure what this H stood for originally, but I found it Saturday, when I was sort of playing hooky. My son was playing in his final college golf tournament, which meant I could walk in respectful silence for four hours and watch him hit a ball that is so small I can't follow where it goes, or I could say hello to my son, leave my husband at the golf course, and go treasure hunting in a new area. As decisions go, this one was not difficult.

As luck would have it, there was an estate sale five minutes away. It was Day 2 of the sale, so I knew the best stuff would be gone, but the H was still there. And maybe it stands for holiday, because I found a Christmas table runner and this fabric. Just a little bit of it, but still: how many vintage President's Day fabrics am I likely to find?

This fabric came from an antique store, but it had a flea market price, and there is nothing I like better than fabric that would have made my grandma a nice housedress.

These flowered glasses, from the same antique store, are not Swanky Swigs, but they are awfully sweet just the same. I seem to be having a pretty good run of finding pretty glassware this spring. Hurray!

Speaking of Swanky Swigs, I found one right off the bat at the estate sale. And since it was Day 2, it was half price! Hip hip hurray!

It was a pretty fun day, tooling around by myself in an area I don't know very well. We met up at the end of the day for dinner, and it was warm enough to eat outside on the restaurant's patio. (I think I've used up my quota of hurrays.)

On Sunday I cleaned up flower beds, my husband mowed the grass, and we both swatted at black flies. (If you've never encountered black flies, just imagine mosquitoes, only more annoying.) But I'm not complaining, because spring not only means great weather, it means the sale season has arrived. I have been saving up my thrift-store finds all winter for one mega wrap-up post in which you would gasp at the amazing things I found. Ready?

A Fire-King casserole, a kitchen clock and one of those shiny chrome paper-towel-and-wax-paper holders. Wait, let's do that again, in case you missed something.

Yep, here it is! The sum total of what was worth buying as I visited every week at least one, usually two, sometimes three and on a few occasions four thrift stores.

And that, friends, is why the arrival of the sale season has me saying: Thank heavens!

 

 

Yard sale discoveries

Because there were no estate sales that seemed worth the drive this morning, I went to a couple of nearby yard sales. I found a few things, mostly of a Christmas nature: a felt stocking, a forest of bottle brush trees, a glass garland with bells, and a few organza-and-mercury-glass ornaments. At the first sale, a woman offered me some unsolicited advice and used an ethnic slur so shocking I was speechless. At the second sale, a man appeared, took a quick glance around, and asked "Got any firearms?" The answer, thankfully, was no, because this man seemed to me the kind of guy for whom background checks were invented. There was just a general air of weirdness, and I remembered that one of the reasons I've come to dislike yard sales is the unpredictable craziness. There is craziness at estate sales, too, but I recognize a lot of the people who go to them and can somewhat anticipate what will happen.

There are odd people at estate sales, but at least they're my odd people. Not random ones.

With that, I'm going to put my new spun-head angels away and stay home the rest of the day.

Vintage toys and other playthings

I found this little metal stove at last week's estate sale. My teapot is a little big for it, but I like the look nonetheless.

I found this wicker cradle on my fourth or fifth pass through the house. I can't imagine why it hadn't been snapped up - maybe because it was filled with hideous stuffed animals. I probably could have sold it half a dozen times on my way out. People kept stopping me to admire it. Well, too bad, because I had plans for it.

I thought it would make a pretty good place to stack up little quilts. And provide a reason to accumulate more little quilts. I also had a family member in mind when I got it.

What cat does not enjoy being forced into a strange new place (especially one that rocks) while being told to hold still for a photo? Patch is responding as well as can be expected.

Hey, remember a couple of weeks ago, when my poor Polly cat was so sick, and the vet didn't give her much of a chance, and I was pretty much spending my time force-feeding her and sniffling?

Well, she's fine. She made a miraculous recovery. Here she is, waking up from her afternoon nap today. It's embarrassing how much I love this cat.

Meanwhile, Patch has decided she has had quite enough of this photo session.

I think I'll go back to my original plan. Just quilts, no cat.

Time to make a plan to hit a few sales Friday. Is it just me or are these weeks just whizzing by?

 

The list of what could go wrong

Do you worry about everything? I do. Friday night, I was worried specifically about a sale I wanted to go to Saturday morning. Would I find it? Would I get there on time? How early should I get up? If I got up too early, would I be so tired the rest of the day I wouldn't get anything done? At 2:35 a.m. (by this point it was Saturday, not Friday) I worried that I wouldn't get any sleep at all. Then I realized that it was not 2:35 a.m. It was 12:35 a.m. (The clock is on the far side of the bed, and I hadn't craned my neck far enough around to see all four digits.) Suddenly all was right with the world, and I was about to get two hours of sleep I thought I had been robbed of.

I sprang out of bed (sort of) at 4:15 and headed to my destination. I had a full tank of gas. I had coffee. I had cash. I had a baggie full of Frosted Mini Wheats to munch on. I drove. I thought I found my destination. The sun had not yet come up, and I was in the country. I got out my flashlight and checked the house number. It seemed like the right place. But there was no sign to indicate that a sale would be held at that location. And no one else in sight.

I spent the next hour in a state of even greater anxiety. Did I have the wrong day? Was I positive this was the right spot? Why was no one else here? Would the state trooper who no doubt was being summoned at this very minute believe my story, that I was innocently sitting in a driveway thinking that an estate sale would occur? Should I start a list? If I started a list, would it be recognized as the Official List to Get Into the Sale, or would there be a dispute?

Another hour passed. The sun rose. I tried to read the book I brought, but I found it hard to concentrate. At 7:15, a van pulled up. It was not a state trooper. Just an ordinary kind of guy. 

"Is this where the estate sale is supposed to be?" he asked. I thought I might cry with relief. "Is there a list out?" he asked. I told him I had started one. "Well, you seem to know what you're doing," he said.

From there, it was easy. It was even fun. Other people showed up. They signed the list. The list I had started. My list! When the man running the sale showed up, he asked me to help hand out the numbers. Oh, the awesome responsibility of being Number One on the list!

Of course, the best part of being Number One is getting first crack at the good stuff.

Beautiful Fire King cups and saucers, and that set of pretty glasses (gone almost as quickly as I listed them) and a dozen Swanky Swigs, and some interesting vintage kitchenware.

A sturdy Hazel Atlas chopper, the ubiquitous folding yardstick, a nice Christmas tin.

 
This clever napkin holder that I'm selling even though I really don't want to.

The odd bits of Christmas. And (no pictures yet) a very cute toy that I'm still working on, and a shoebox full of buttons that I'm sorting through. And the one item that made me gulp when I looked at the price tag, then realized that if you're going to get up at 4:15, you'd better have something to show for it.

That would be this.

Actually. these. Which proved to be the perfect antidote for all of that pre-sale anxiety. What, me worry? I can't wait for next weekend.

 

Coming up roses (and daffodils and tulips)

1.

I got my newly blooming daffodils inside before the rain and snow and gusty winds came.

2.

I was #1 on the list to get into a sale.

3.

After I got my number, I went to Dunkin Donuts for coffee and a chocolate frosted doughnut. When it cost hardly anything, the young woman at the counter smiled and said, "It's customer appreciation day!"

4.

I went back to the sale and got lots of good stuff, including a dozen Swanky Swigs.

I'm having a pretty good day, and I hope you are, too.

Quilts: some cute, some pink, some with ducks

Perhaps you've had the experience of going to an estate sale that advertised "charming vintage quilts" and come home with nothing because: a) someone ahead of you in line got them first, b) the quilts are not charming, or c) the prices were eye-popping. I've had all three happen to me. But not last weekend, hooray! These two nursery quilts came from Saturday's estate sale.

The quilt top on the left came from Friday's barn sale, and the one on the right also came from the estate sale. The pink one on the left is just about perfect and will be headed to my Etsy shop, I'm hoping later today.

The blue nursery quilt is so sweet, with hand-embroidered squares in blue alternating between solid blue squares.

There are depictions of nursery rhymes, like Hickory, Dickory, Dock,

and fairy tales, like Little Red Riding Hood.

I'm not really sure what these animals are. Bears? Hedgehogs? Whatever they are, the little one is wearing a little romper, the mama is wearing polka dots, and the papa has spectacles.

The yellow nursery quilt seems to be devoted to unbearably cute animals in springtime. Doing things like hauling flowerpots of spring flowers in a wagon.

Or walking in the rain.

Or sporting plaid and polka dots. You don't really have to do anything to be cute when you're wearing plaid and polka dots. The blue nursery quilt is headed to Etsy, and the yellow quilt needs some work, so I'm keeping it.

The old pink quilt is not so much my style, and it's quite tattered, but the price was right, so I scooped it up.

It wasn't until I was checking out that I noticed the sashing print. Ducks on pink. And since this one needs a lot of work, too, I guess I'll have to keep it, too. Darn.

 

 

High hopes

If every weekend is as good as this past one for sales, I'll be pretty happy. Everything here came from Friday's barn sale and an estate sale Saturday. The big Pyrex haul is in the background.

There was also a sweet sampler,

A box of bells, and one of those tiny little Czechoslovakian house ornaments, except this one is a mill with a water wheel, and a wind-up Santa that makes a sound like a cheap alarm clock but nonetheless is a welcome addition to my collection of Christmas action figures. (Video to come in December. It's a little early yet.)

Quilt blocks and a doll dress, which I bought mostly because

I loved the carousel print.

An aqua and pink pitcher that came with six matching glasses.

A rain gauge from Nebraska. Who hasn't wished for one? Feel free to guess why Nebraska is one of my favorite states, but I can almost guarantee you will not get the right answer. The rain gauge is just one more reason to love the Cornhusker State, as far as I'm concerned.

From a big box of sewing junk I rescued some useful things, and these pretty vintage notions.

There was a happy couple that's actually a bell. Literally, a wedding bell.

And an instant collection of floral frogs, and then some.

I met the nicest couple at the estate sale, and as it turned out, they are devoted floral frog collectors. They own more than 300, but they don't have this one, they said. It reminds me of a cross between a bedspring and a porcupine. In what can only be described as going the extra mile for vintage, I scrubbed all of the leaves and sticks and gunk out of my newly acquired frogs. I have never bathed a porcupine, but I think washing nearly a dozen floral frogs comes close. Less squirmy, though, I'd imagine.

Since the subject of porcupines hardly ever comes up here, I'll take this opportunity to tell you about the one and only time I saw a porcupine in the wild. It was a mama porcupine with a bunch of babies waddling behind her, and if you want to see cute, start looking for baby porcupines. They're like little Brillo pads with legs. They are so sweet you'd want to pick them up and cuddle them except that's exactly what you wouldn't want to do.

Moving off of the subject of porcupines - and not a moment too soon, perhaps some of you are saying - it was quite a good weekend for quilt tops and such. Because I very much enjoy taking quilt photos, I'm going to break these into two separate posts. I would ask which quilts you want to see first - the cute quilts or the pretty quilts - but I know this crowd pretty well, so let me phrase it this way: You wanna see the cute quilts first, or do you want me to save the cute quilts for last?

 

You're all invited

Come for breakfast.

Come for lunch.

Come for dinner.

Come for all three meals. All of you.

I've got more than enough Pyrex to go around.

Annual barn sale, some years you have disappointed me, but this year you did not!

Sewing and an NCAA recap

I mentioned to Mr. Oodles the other day that I am obsessed with sewing. "I know," he said, and although he didn't seem exactly sad, he seemed less enthused than if I had announced I was obsessed with preparing four-course dinners or learning how to make a lot of money by day trading. I was persuaded to leave home long enough, however, for a little day trip that, among other things, involved lunch and antique stores. I may be obsessed, but I'm not crazy enough to turn that down.

Here are the souvenirs I purchased: an apron pattern, a darning egg and that adorable vintage fabric. There's really nothing better than 36-inch wide vintage cotton. Really, if I had to choose between finding a regular stream of 36-inch wide vintage cotton and my team winning the NCAA men's basketball championship, I'd pick the fabric.

For those of you worried about my mental state after Syracuse lost Saturday night, fret no more. I was sad for the team, and then I Instantly Moved On With The Rest of My Life. It's really fun when they win, but you know, I have sewing to do.

On the bright side, I might get my laptop back sooner. Our computer guy asked if he could have it a couple of extra days, what with the basketball tournament and all. Our computer guy is a really nice middle-aged guy, and not, you know, a member of the team. But he indicated that he wouldn't be able to devote his full attention to the task at hand as long as Syracuse was in the running. I hope he's not so depressed he can't work.

I had a couple of friends over to sew Saturday afternoon. It was awesomely fun. (Also, in general entertaining terms, as easy as it gets. You don't have to clean up your sewing stuff, and you can't serve food, because eating and sewing are incompatible.) My friend Lillian brought me scissor-printed washi tape. Kfjdi ur iue jmkjvi! I love it so much it reduces me to gibberish.

I don't have a project to show you, what with all of that entertaining and basketball watching, and because I was good and did some listings for Etsy and eBay Sunday afternoon. (Links in the sidebar.) I started something late in the day which I thought I would actually complete in a few hours. I even had a cute little title for a blog post rattling around in my head - something along the idea of "Coverlet in an Afternoon." I was suffering from sewing delusions of grandeur. So all you're getting is the scrap bowl, but it's a good-looking scrap bowl.

Have you ever wished you could trade hours of sleep for hours of sewing?

Showing our colors

Orange print.

Orange butterfly.

Large scale orange floral.

Small scale orange floral.

Precious scrap of orange floral.

Orange plaid.

Another orange print.

Orange chickens.

Orange squares.

Orange paisley.

Orange kerchief.

Orange fan.

The Final Four is finally here! Go, Orange!