It may not be a shelter mag, but it is a daily newspaper in the second largest city in Texas. And it ran a feature on Homestead, the shop I’m in.
AND out of 200 vendors, I got a little space devoted to me – “No. 1301.” Yep. You always get reduced to a number, don’t you? But I’ll take it and be happy. Giddy even.
They ran five photos. This shot of an assemblage in my space was after the jump:
What a fab way to start a much-needed weekend! Hope you enjoy yours…
Beauty is, indeed, in the eye of the beholder.
See? I haven’t given up the love for shabby whites…
Player piano rolls find a new home in an old night stand/side table. Call it whatever you want. You want it to be a kitchen island? OKAY!
Just shy of a complete set of silverplate. I can’t resist it.
A witch’s hat Victrola horn. Wouldn’t it make an excellent hanging light? All it needs is a little ol’ light kit.
Near miss today: A cubby, very similar to this one, only not green, for $3. I kid you not. I was so bummed I tried calling the person who bought it to see if she would sell it to me. Alas, no answer.
My friend Shelly gets all her paint from the oops section at that big orange hardware store. I was dumbfounded the day she confessed this sin to me. Every room of her former house was painted with someone else’s mistakes. I, on the other hand, was unaware such a section existed. I’m more the type you see staring in awe at all the amazing colors available for mixing. Shelly’s palette is much narrower, consisting only of that which wasn’t quite spot on.
I’ve lived in my house for almost seven years. And when it comes to decorating, I like to think I’m letting my house dictate to me what exactly needs to be done. {That’s my story anyway.}
If walls could talk, however, I’m sure they’d be screaming, “Just pick a color already! This is getting embarrassing!” You see, I still haven’t finished painting the living room, or the laundry hall, or two bathrooms. Even our hallway is unfinished, as is the master bedroom. I’m not much of a finisher {no surprise to those who know me well}. And commitment is hard for me. Especially when it comes to color. {Maybe that’s why I tend to stick to painting furniture either cream or black.}
But I was happy with myself for picking, fairly quickly I might add, a color to paint a bench I picked up at an estate sale last week. It has already been painted, distressed and hauled to its temporary home in the newly colorful section of my space at Homestead:
I think it turned out okay. I wasn’t totally pleased with the color, but I didn’t have time to tone it down with gel stain. So it is what it is.
That being said, I did ask for color suggestions on my business Facebook page. {I didn’t want to commit to a color without some sort of validation!}
So if you’re on FB and would like an easy way to keep up with my shop shenanigans, please visit me here. I don’t want you to miss out on a thing! And it is such a friendly, easy way to communicate.
I may even begin offering some FB specials for my customers.
But probably not too soon. I just can’t quite commit!
Sunday I happened upon a find that made me so giddy I literally jumped up and down. For probably an entire minute. I even considered throwing caution to the wind and hugging the seller, paying no mind to the sweat stains on his T-shirt. But…I came to my senses. And calmed down.
This is what caused all the excitement:
A complete set of stamps, in the original wooden box — all for a bargain price. And I just happened to have something that would complement these stamps perfectly:
Stamping kits. Oh, how I love them. Old ink. Old stamp pad. Ready and waiting for some vintage stamps.
Only the marriage was never meant to be.
As I was working on my space later Sunday afternoon, some really nice women stopped by. I pulled the stamps out from under a pile of junk, and they were as excited as I had been. Bought them on the spot. I hadn’t even had time to give proper love to my purchase. It was a bittersweet moment.
Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE to sell. But when you buy what you love, sometimes you experience a bit of separation anxiety. The good news, of course, is that there are always more treasures out there waiting to be discovered.
Bring on the good junk!
It was time — time to completely tear apart a big chunk of my shop space to make room for something new…
Color?
Yep. The entire spectrum.
But don’t worry, creamy white freaks… All that color is confined to one corner.
There’s still plenty of white, including this fire hose:
Who buys a fire hose? At least one other person, who sells at Warrenton and shall remain nameless at this time, SHOULD have bought it. And another local dealer friend of mine has offered to take it off my hands {at cost} if buyer’s remorse sets in. So how could I miss?
Do you have any idea how heavy these things are?
And I heaved it up on top of that tall shelf all by myself.
It uncoiled on my face. And for a moment, I imagined death by fire hose … which really isn’t how I want to leave this world. AND, as I’ve said before: Cool isn’t worth a head injury, kids.
Be careful out there!
Spiffin’ things up a bit and making some changes at the ol’ shop.
What is it about old rusty sewing machines that I find so irresistible?
And ribbons. All over the place. Some church ribbons. Some IOOF. Some from cat shows! Someone save me AND my girl!
Tomorrow there is much more work to be done. AND I’ll be picking up a fantastic bench and painting it. All in the same day. Who woulda thought?
Hope you have plans to do something at least that fun! Happy weekend.
…when you come home to find this on your porch:
{I still haven’t opened the packages, but I smell burlap!}
AND I dropped off these at the shop:
{PLEASE disregard the mess below the banners…I took the photo before I’d finished working!}
Life is good.
It may be gloomy outside, but inside it’s bright and shiny in my soul because of this:
I got all smiley this morning as I prepared to take my son to school. You see, I temporarily had forgotten that I’m now carrying a NEW BAG that I purchased at Urban Market in Houston on Saturday! So when I went to grab my keys and my purse…there she was, all beautiful and handy and waiting just for me!
My old bag, which was years in the making, totally cramped my style. It was handmade by a friend of mine out of fabric remnants I found at Binky La Faye long, long ago. But it didn’t work for me at all.
This new bag, however, has my name written all over it. From the hand-stamped vintage grain sack to the newsboy style, it is sheer joy on a long shoulder strap! I’m sure I’ll be sporting it at Warrenton, since it’s a bit less fragile than the OTHER bag I bought at Urban Market from Meloney Russell of The Seed Box Antiques. {More on THAT buy later.}
February truly is the month of love around my house. I recently celebrated my 21st wedding anniversary. Then, of course, yesterday was V-Day. And if that alone isn’t enough, my elder son turns 17 next week. But…I have a confession to make. I’ve been crushing all month long on Ms. February. Check out this beauty:
Smitten, I believe, is the word that best describes how she makes me feel. And she can be found in Vintage Rescue Squad’s Dreaming of Junking calendar. If you don’t own one, make plans now to order one from the VRS Etsy shop for 2012! It’s the most beautiful thing in the whole wide junking world.
Wishing you miles of smiles this week…
I don’t think he was from my neighborhood.
That’s my story, anyway.
I know he’ll come in handy, once I bling him up just a bit. {That skull-cap is need of some rhinestones, right?}
I tried him out as a tag holder:
But I think he’ll default to jewelry holder once he’s found a permanent home at the shop.
Please don’t tell the other boys…
They may never visit me again!
