Wordy Wednesday: Pickin’ and grinnin’

15 Aug
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I found a pair of hotel pitchers at the flea market. Different hotels, but both marked.

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This case is original to the ROLLER SKATES hidden inside!

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My vow to buy NO. MORE. BOOKS. was quickly broken when I saw this at the flea market.

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Cut velvet from the flea market

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Found this amazing cooler in Georgetown at Gatherings. Too scared to bring it in the house since I’m purging, it’s resting sweetly at the shop.

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Chair once belonged to a friend, pillows belonged to a neighbor and the book was the second vow-breaker I found Sunday at the flea.

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You’d break a vow for this too. I just know it.

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Scale part! Nice ‘n’ rusty. Karly got its much better twinkie at the flea.

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I’m now the proud owner of a kazillion of these bottles. “If you buy them all, I’ll make you a really good deal.” She wasn’t joking. Therefore, I bought!

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A pair of these came home with me from the flea. One will be heading to college with the elder son, if I can convince myself that it won’t cause a fire in a 1930s dorm…

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Maybe my favorite find from Sunday. I don’t know why.

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SOLD! One blue and one white fish-shaped pool lounge chair. G-sale success…

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Egads…leftovers from a box lot auction buy. Never again.

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Childhood memories…

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This table remained unchanged and unsold at the g-sale. Maybe it was too cute for its tablecloth.

Toward the end of last week I was all, “I’m so tired of STUFF!” I was smack dab in the middle of trying to make some kind of sense out of our storage room when the garage sale idea was born.

So we had our garage sale over the weekend. Two full days in 100-degree heat. We ended up about $1300 richer, thanks to a couple of sweet sales and my trendy taste in furniture. (Joke)

My husband was out of town during the whole shebang. Before he flew away to cooler temperatures, I warned him that I might sell everything. (That right there is some kind of creepy cool foreshadowing.)

Little did I know that the raspy-voiced woman from our last g-sale would return. Little did I know that she, in her too-short shorts and skimpy tank top, had connections. And maybe because we suffered sights that should remain unseen while we helped her load at our last sale, we were met with some kickin’ karma: Her connection spent $900 with me. And I have his card just in case I decide I can part with my dining room furniture at some point in the future.

Because I like to sweat so much, I got up nice and early Sunday morning for some flea market action. I would’ve skipped it had I not been meeting Karly, of Gypsy Treasures fame. She’s so much fun to hang with, as is her hubby. And their kids are precious…even if the wee one had his shorts on backwards. Or maybe because he did. They arose at 0-dark-thirty to make the trek to San Antonio from Boerne, which is quite a drive when you have a 7 am play date, though not as far as Houston or Louisiana, where they used to live. So glad she’s close enough that we’ll get the chance to be more than 6-month friends!

Most of the pictures above are flea market finds from Sunday. A couple are from our garage sale. I tried to make the sale cute, but nothing’s cute in a brown yard when it’s 100 degrees.

Word.

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Talent on a Wordless Wednesday

1 Aug

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Not completely wordless, of course. For me that’s impossible. But I’m stuck at NTB with a nail in my tire, so I decided to finally take a minute to show you the work of one talented woman: Sari Jane, my across-the-aisle neighbor at Homestead.

She and daughter Dawn are fountains of creativity. They design jewelry and the most gorgeous lampshades I’ve ever seen. Right now there is a beautiful hanging lamp in their space. And because I’m the nosy type, I had to stick my head under the shade just to look at its innards. Its underbelly is perfection! These women pay strict attention to detail, as you can see in the photos of the precious trike.

I love them both. Like their lampshades, they are beautiful inside and out. They and their work are huge sources of inspiration.

The final final expansion

26 Jul

And just like that, the “you can do it all” part of my brain overtook the “you hate going to the post office” part of my brain.

The result?

I’ve now opened an Etsy shop.

I have a huge stack of these Victorian albums. Maybe they’ll all eventually make it to my Etsy shop.

So…in keeping with self-promotion, I’ve now added a link on my sidebar to said Etsy shop and to my business page on Facebook. AND…in case you are confused by the different names, my shop name has always been Checkered Past. My blog is Junkology.  Simple, right?

Now I just need to figure out where to put what goods. This has always been a problem for me. I’ll take something to one shop location and wish it were in the other. I use the term “holding it hostage” entirely too much when I’m referring to something that hasn’t sold at one location. I’m always sure it would sell if I moved it. Sometimes I’m right. Sometimes it was just a bad buy to begin with.

If you have an Etsy shop, please let me know your shop name so I can add you to my circle o’ shops. And just like my neglected blogroll, I may be a little slow to link up to your shop, but it will happen.

Thanks, as always, for coming back to this blog, even when a month has passed and I haven’t had a single word to say. Oh, I’m thinking plenty. Believe me. And I’m doing, too. I just don’t always take the time to share.

Hope you’re having a fabulous summer…

Why I love the interwebs, part one

27 Jun

I have been a Picmonkey user for a few months now. It seemed to be the way to go after Google gave the ax to Picnik. If you aren’t familiar with Picmonkey, it’s a FREE photo editing program available to you online. You don’t need to register or anything in order to use it.

Now. Those of you who know me, know that I’m not huge on photo editing. I could go on and on about my (limited and long ago) days in the dark room, about the framing of a shot, about the importance of polaroids at professional shoots (sad that very few people can even understand that reference today), about the natural composition of a photo, OR about my 180-turn into not giving two shakes about taking “real” photos. But that’s not what this is about.

Picmonkey, for me, is simply a tool for cool. Case in point:

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I put this little card together in about a split second. First I uploaded into Picmonkey an image I found of the back of a postcard. (I’m involved in a postcard art swap this summer, so I have LOTS of postcard examples. The one I grabbed happened to be from an Africa swap and makes no sense with the image!) Then, I used the layering tools available through Picmonkey to layer on the image of the bareback rider. As you can see, it looks like it is behind the postcard image, thanks to the magic of the layering tools on Picmonkey. Finally, I added the text. I merged all my layers, saved it to my hard drive and now that little sign sits with (you guessed it) my vintage ink stamps at the shop! So easy and so cute. Imagine how cute it would’ve been if I’d taken more than a split second!!

But that’s not all! The best part happened when I shared this image and information on my Checkered Past Facebook business pageOne of my followers saw it, used it, blogged it, expressed her happiness to me about it and lived happily ever after! 

And that, my friends, is why I love the interwebs, part one. And you can too!

Portrait of a (very specific) graduate.

6 Jun
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How strange that there was a boxcar with a version of his name on it. He didn’t do it. I swear.

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AWARDS! A shrine to all his hard work.

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Clown…his very first friend.

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His 1966 Gibson LG

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This room doubles as a guest room. Just kidding.

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Let’s just say that lockers were the best idea ever invented for the bedroom of a boy.

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Art is important.

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The HUGE spray-painted piece was commissioned just for him.

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A dream catcher…

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Proof: Right there are two pair of scissors…on his desk.

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I will miss this loudness when he leaves for college.

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Everyone needs a can of veggies under the bed. Zombie Apocalypse, and all.

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Old school recording fun

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He uses his pencils ’til the bitter end…

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Zune user

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How he treats the furniture…

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Self-taught piano picker

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In the middle of his bedroom floor lies a sad sock with an ink spot.

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Clean clothes stuffed in a drawer that can’t close…

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I’m betting these are headed to half price books…

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The shrine he created on his bedroom door

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Shrine, part two

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His band, The Solar Compromise on one of their gig posters

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His 2012 class at White Sands, NM, a couple of years ago

My elder boy graduates tomorrow. Eighteen years led to this very moment. He says, “It’s no big deal. It’s just high school.” But it is a big deal. It’s here that everything changes.

I’ve been working on a shrine, at least that’s what I’ve called it, in his honor (second photo). Basically this means I’ve moved all the awards he earned this year from our dining room table to the credenza beside our dining room table. I know. Hard work. But every time I add something to this collection of Things That Represent Him, something feels a little off. So finally yesterday I had an epiphany: Those awards? They only tell a fraction of the story. He is so much more. Hence, the rest of the photos.

He’s my scissors stealer, for one. There’s nothing quite like needing to cut apart a piece of paper, probably a permission slip for one of his field trips, and not being able to find a pair of scissors.

His walls are a crazy representation of his love for movies and music. And even though the posters aren’t necessarily from movies he loved (he works at a theatre), he chose to afix them to his walls with PACKING TAPE, leaving a permanent mark on his room.

His shoes are completely worn out. In fact, they’re now more like flip flops than tennis shoes. And he won’t stop wearing them.

He is, as they say, a hot mess.

I know, I know…I’m going to miss him when he leaves for college in the fall. I really do know this. He’s the closest manifestation of me outside of myself, of course, anywhere on this planet. So I get him. (My closet door closely resembled the back of his door when I was his age. Only I used stickers! I am STILL unable to put things, like scissors, back where they belong. And shoes? I wore a pair of ballet flats until the leather was full of holes when I was a teenager. And I’m working on some holes in my Mary Janes as we speak. And I’m 45.)

I’m SO  not ready for him to leave. I’m not finished with him yet. I haven’t taught him how to sort laundry or how to cook. I haven’t modeled keeping a clean house. I haven’t explained finances or STDs well enough.

What’s going to happen when he’s far away from home and he gets sick for the first time? Who will be there for him when someone breaks his heart? Who will wake him up when he fails to hear his alarm? Who will hold his hand when he crosses the street? Okay. I’ll admit it has been a few years since I’ve done that, but I’m sure there’s someone in his future who will bring hand-holding full circle.

I know, deep down, he’ll be fine. Because despite my parental shortcomings, I have taught him one very important thing: how to think for himself.

We may not have always modeled good behavior. I cuss too much. My husband and I  have argued in front of him. He’s eaten sweet cereal and pop tarts for breakfast almost every day of his life, except for the early nutrigrain bars and banana years.

Still he’s survived. Thrived even.

He’s so innocent, idealistic and naive. And I love those qualities in him. It stings a bit to know he’s on the cusp of becoming jaded. But maybe he won’t. Maybe he’ll be the exception.

All I want for him is happiness. And everything else good in the world.

He’s an amazing human being. So go ahead…expect great things from him. I can assure you he is going to rock this world.

My life in art

7 May
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My kit for the Tim Holtz Configurations workshop in Plano, Texas. He provided everything. EVERYTHING. Even scissors. He’s like the Oprah of the crafting world.

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Just how messy a table can get when there’s art to be made…

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My finished configurations box…

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Workshop with artist KC Willis in Ft. Worth. I had my own table. And was able to spread out! I’ll feature the project in a future post.

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My finished book from KC Willis’s two-day class.

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On the road to Kansas. Oklahoma antiques stop. We only spent three hours there.

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On the never-ending turnpike to Kansas!!!

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We finally made it to Kansas. This was my first project at the two-day Birdsong retreat, hosted by Karla Nathan.

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Fellow Texan Nicki hard at work…

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A little fairy mushroom project from Birdsong. I’m not really a fairy girl, so I gifted the finished product to my friend Lisa’s daughter.

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But this fairy project I’m keeping…another Birdsong creation

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Beth! She jokingly considered putting the now-famous Paper Cowgirl group photo in her theatre collage.

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Our lovely Birdsong host, Karla, in her element.

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The Texas Birrdsong crew! Tammy (middle) took a plane instead of braving the road trip.

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The haul, minus our luggage, which went on top of the van. BUT…we added to this the next day. More great finds in Oklahoma were calling our names!

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You have no idea how true this shirt is.

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Ah. The Texas border at last.

So I was in Ft. Worth, Texas, starting the last leg of my long journey home down the breathtakingly beautiful I-35 from Lawrence, Kansas. As I was admiring the Ft. Worth skyline, I suddenly remembered the family trips we took when I was a kid. I was always enamored by cities.

We’d leave the rural flatlands of West Texas and head to exotic locales such as Texarkana, Texas, or Pineville, Louisiana.

Me, always in the backseat, sandwiched between two sisters who threatened to snuff me out if my feet strayed from the hump on the floorboard.

Me, asking for a wakeup call when we hit Ft. Worth. Because to me, Ft. Worth wasn’t where the West began so much as it was where the west ended. Where everything got a little more interesting.

There was the skyline, of course. Then just a few miles up I-30 there was an amazing place called Six Flags Over Texas. I always begged to stop there, even though I knew we wouldn’t. Then up the road just a tad further was the Really Big skyline of Dallas. I think the conversation at that point, at least in my memories, always focused on the Kennedy assassination.  Travel back then was cramped, but dreams were big. Our only entertainment was getting away with unfastening our seatbelts without our parents catching us and listening to 8-tracks. Most likely Kenny Rogers. If we were lucky, we’d get to put in Frampton Comes Alive or listen to rock radio for awhile.

The journey is important. That I know.  And I don’t want to lose that excitement for travel. That feeling of freedom you only find on the open road. The wonder of what you’ll discover. Who you might meet.

When my kids were little they were great travelers. And they almost always said they wanted to go to college in whatever city we’d be visiting. We weren’t even sure some of the cities had colleges. But they loved the newness, even at such young ages, of being somewhere fresh. I don’t want them to lose that feeling. I don’t want to lose that feeling.

My mom gifted me with a collage a few years ago that reads, “To go through life with childlike dreams and airy hopes is such a gift.” And as I stared at the Ft. Worth skyline that day, weary from the road and ready to be home — even though the San Antonio skyline is less than stellar, I was a believer.

Three art workshops in one week. Friends. Laughter. Travel. In the end it’s all worth being stuck in the middle with your feet firmly planted on the floorboard hump. Or, in my case this time, with a box of fresh-picked junk underfoot.

The rest of the Warrenton/Round Top story

17 Apr
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Legs! One of the most photographed spots in Warrenton...right outside of Cole's. These body parts belong to Meloney and Brian of Seed Box Antiques.

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When staying at my Deluxe Accommodations in Brenham, I always stop at this small show on my way back to the fields. I don't know what it's called, but it's close to Burton. This year I bought some galvanized stuff from them.

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In Round Top...

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In Round Top, next to Royer's!!

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I've SEEN this photo everywhere, too... Warrenton...

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Junk Gypsy tent...

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Pardon the blur, but see if you can spot what's wrong in this picture (besides the blur). Taken at the Fayetteville show, where dealers are open late every night.

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On the road, literally, leaving the little cabin in the woods, outside of LaGrange. I found it a bit unsettling the way the look you straight in the eye!!

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Sweet Talk/Rubbish, Janet's brain child! At Marburger Farm. When you visit her booth, make sure you ask her to find a very specific word. She has THOUSANDS of flashcards. Also suggest that she lower her prices. She'll be your new best friend.

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More Rubbish...

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More Rubbish...Not only is Janet the flashcard queen, she also has cornered the butter pat market.

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More Rubbish...

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Rubbish again...

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Willow Nest at Marburger Farm

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The low-color beauty of Willow Nest once again...

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Willow Nest again. Linda spent some time in France recently and brought back all kinds of treasures...

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Willow Nest...

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Willow Nest

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Willow Nest...I love these fountains.

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Willow Nest...Yes! It's for sale!!

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Quite possibly my favorite thing: Conveyor belt. At Marburger in Fluff's space...If you haven't met Stephanie, you need to!

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French Fluff...I did bring a few of these home with me.

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Fluff...Beautiful bed!

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Fluff...I adore this lamp...

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Fluff

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More Round Top scenery...

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Snapped this while stopped in traffic on the highway!

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Janet of Sweet Talk/Rubbish had these gloves on the wall outside MFHLR (that's the OFFICIAL name of her location)...

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Part of my haul...

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Mom's meatloaf from Happy Belly: I like to bookend my trip with Happy Belly...a perfect way to start a junking adventure, and a sweet ending to a great week, too.

The goods. The scenery.

When you mix it all together with the food and the people and the events, you get the entire Antiques Week picture.

It’s all happening. Twice a year. In sprawling Texas cow pastures. See you there in the fall?