Nov 28, 2014

Cherishing Time From Long Ago




My cherished clock turns back time for me.


Hello,

I hope all is well in your world. Like most everyone else, I have  been super busy and when I got a request to write about a cherished treasure, I thought it was a good time to slow down and share a bit.  I was asked to write about a cherished item in my home by Chairish, a very cool site that allows vintage lovers to sell and buy fabulous objects and furniture. I am not getting any compensation, only a request to participate blogging about a cherished item, which of course, is a favorite topic of mine. But do take a moment to check them out - there are some really neat items on their site!




This is my cherished 1890's German clock that belonged to my father. I grew up with this special clock in our dining room. The memories of that clock....Oh, how the minutes just dragged by as I would look up to check the time until Charlie Brown Christmas was due on the tube (as we called television back in the day). And yet, how those minutes flew by when my mother would announce that bath time would be in 20 minutes. I was usually busy making intricate spirals with my Spirograph wheels and colored ink pens - and with no intention of stopping for a darn bath. 







I also learned to count from the clock with its musical chiming throughout the house. Being a night owl, I remember counting to 12 as I laid wide awake in my bed and then being confused that it chimed 12 times then only just one chime on the next hour. By daybreak, I would forget my confusion. But one night, at the stroke of one in the morning, I remember getting up and sliding down to my parents room (in feet pajamas, one can't just walk, but one must "slide" or "skate" down the hallway), tapping my dad on his forehead and telling him something was wrong with the clock. Understandably confused, and he not being the Leave-it-to-Beaver-type of dad that pounced upon teachable moments to explain time to his four year-old daughter at one in the morning; no, he sat up, grunted, "Whaat? Who?  What the hell?" And told me it's late, nothing is wrong, and took me back to bed. However, I wasn't convinced that there was nothing was wrong with the clock, because I was pretty sure how to count and for quite a while, I felt that "my" clock was just mixed up a little.




My favorite memories of my clock have more to do with my father, than the clock itself. The above pic is how I remember my clock as a little girl. It seemed so high up (to keep curious little hands off it, no doubt) and it looked so impressive. This is the viewpoint I had of my clock for years - unless I stood on the stairwell, and suddenly I was tall enough to see it straight on. 




I remember my father winding the clock every Sunday. I was most definitely a "daddy's girl" and would lean on his leg, looked up, as he opened up the door and took the key out of the "secret" hiding place. 






I was fascinated by that little key - it looked nothing like car keys, or the house key or the little key that locked our tool shed. I often wonder if my love of old keys today stems from this clock key.






But mostly, I loved that key, because when my brothers and sister weren't around, my dad would pick me up and hold me with one arm, as he turned the key with the his other hand. And on rare occasion, he would let me "do a turn" as I would beg. He would show me the secret hiding place for the key, and always remind me that I wasn't to play or touch the clock, which I never once did. 






My dad would sometimes wipe down the wood, and I would reach out and gently touch the wood myself and felt all the curves and knobs. All the while, pulling on my dad's neck, as he held me, while I leaned in to stroke the polished wood.






I often think about cleaning up the old marks, the worn areas, and buffing out the pitted stains - that is what my dad would do. But there is a part of me that likes to believe that those old marks are the last marks from my father's hand. My logical part tells me that it is just aged over years of travel, boxed up, and natural patina. My father never really allowed it to tarnish. But his last two years of life, his health was very poor, and I would be very surprised if he cleaned his clock at all during the last year of his life. I like to tell myself that these marks are left by him, and so, I want to keep them. And a part of me also wants to believe that somewhere, there may be a small fingerprint from my childhood, left from those days that I held tightly onto my father's neck as I left my own mark.





When my clock chimes, it warms my heart, brings back memories, and although I am so much older now, the sound of the chimes make me feel young again. I like to think of my clock as my own time machine - stuck in reverse.

But reverse is just fine. While the future holds many new adventures, it is nice to relive those memories that hold my father.

May your own reverse time machine take you to a place of joy.

from my house to your house,



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Oct 4, 2014

A Ball of Fun with Jars and String





*String, Jars, and a Tangled Ball of Fun*







Hello my dear friends!

I have been out of town with my barber husband for a week and just got back today. We went to a little fishing cabin and enjoyed the beginnings of autumn in nature - a lake - some fishing - campfires - zero cell coverage, and just sitting on the porch discovering more stars than we have seen in ages! On the way home, we stopped and antiqued a bit and as I unpacked my goodies on our back table, the light was hitting my treasures "just so" and so I grabbed my camera and took a few shots.




I am on a mission to rid of all things plastic. Well, almost all things plastic. And my first project is to rid of all my tons of spice "jars" that I get when I pick up a little spice here and there from the markets. I hate those little plastic containers they come in when I am buying just a tad. Some spices do come in glass, but many (actually most) come in plastic. 

Why the sudden disdain for plastic? Well, it really isn't sudden, but I am finally getting around to do some changes in my lifestyle that has been on my  mind for some time now. Plastic just isn't healthy (for our body and our planet), plain and simple. We have collected some vintage refrigerator jars to hold our water (and we love them!) as well as vintage glass refrigerator food storage containers to replace tupperware. So, I am determined to rid of plastic wherever possible, and replace it with only vintage jars to hold all of my spices and ingredients. I found these little jars and I love the "shot glass" bottom that a few of them have! 






I found the cutest little "baby" mason jars (1 pint) that are perfect to hold larger quantities of some ingredients such as my variety of sea salts, pepper corns, whole basil leaves, cocoa powder, baking soda, vanilla sugar, corn starch, and so on.






And then I found this fab vintage counter jar that is perfect to hold some course cornmeal I bought at a little Amish grocer while on vacation. But even better? For only $18, I get the fab jar filled with spectacular string! Can never have enough string, twine, rope, thread, yarn, or whatever else type there is out there. I just love it all, actually. 

So, I had to play a bit...

































I think even though I am 50, I am still like the kid at Christmas who spends the morning gleefully playing with the boxes and wrapping paper...give me a jar of string and you find me in my own box of joy.

It's "late" and we are still technically on vacation, so we are settling in to watch a movie, eat Amish snacks, and have the kitties on our lap tonight. I hope your Sunday is spent in your own "box of joy"!

from my house to your house,



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Sep 26, 2014

Lavender, Linen, and a Little Bit of Love



Ribbon, lavender, and a little bit of linen


Hello my friends,

I hope all is well with you on this b..e..a..u..t..i..f..u..l fall day today! I thought I would share a little project that I did a while back, but decided to make a few more today - lavender sachets.





I have tons of linen scraps here and there and they (along with vintage ticking, old table cloths, or any natural fiber fabric) and they make the perfect little sachets. I cut the scraps into 3.5" x 3.5" and just fill and sew!









I like the rustic look, so I simply place one piece of fabric onto the other (wrongs sides together). I sew about 1/4" allowance and then fill with buds and carefully sew it shut. Seriously, the entire process takes less than five minutes from cut to shut.




The rough, unfinished edges give a feel of homespun elegance.







A little velvet ribbon tied around a bundle of three...





Makes an elegant and simple gift to thee...





Just "squish" them periodically to release the wonderful lavender scent. Perfect for under your sleeping pillow during the day and at night, remove, flip pillow over, and rest your head on a lovely, soothing scent.

Wishing "thee" a happy and creative weekend!

from my house to your house


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