Vintage glimpses

Tags

Close To My Heart, Fresno Doll Sale, gloves, sewing notions, vintage trims, Whiting and Davis

I have been pricing items for the Fresno Doll Show sporadically all day. Actually, “sporadic” is probably the best descriptor of the entire day. Off and on today I have alternately played computer games, worked on my Close To My Heart business, shopped, cleaned house (very little), priced merchandise, and read. I can’t seem to really settle down to work on anything with any stick-to-it-ive-ness (that was Mom’s word).

Lily asked me a few minutes ago what I was making. My answer? “A mess.” I have covered the end of the dining room table with a melange of vintage trims, gloves, more trims, sewing notions, purses…it’s all here somewhere. The goal, of course, is for every snipped of “stuff” to end up in a ziplock baggie with a price tag safely tucked inside, then boxed and ready to load into the car.

Here is just a glimpse of the things going into this particular box:

A glimpse of vintage goodies. The mesh purse in the center is a Whiting & Davis — very nice!

Unscheduled days

Tags

Close To My Heart, Fresno State, overscheduling, Rosemary Andreas, unscheduled days, USC

Anyone who knows me at all knows that I tend to over-schedule my life. Not intentionally, of course, but simply because there are so many interesting things to do in the world, and I want to do my share of them! So when I realized I had the entire weekend unscheduled AND the ladies were scrapping at Trinity Lutheran all day, I quickly cleared the day with the other adults in the family and emailed my RSVP.

I forgot to set my alarm and overslept, which put me 45 minutes behind schedule from my first conscious movement, but no matter. I was off on a new adventure. I quickly dressed, got presentable, heated water and made tea, and loaded my Jeep. I had boxes of stamps, inks, tools, and embellishments, plus totes filled with papers and even more stamps. I was in Exeter by 9:15, and stayed til nearly 5:30.

I made nearly a dozen cards for future sale, sold some Close To My Heart products that coordinate with Creative Memories products my customers already own (see my posting about Rosemary here) and enjoyed an entire day of adult companionship without any responsibilities.

When I got home, Fresno State’s drubbing by USC had already begun, but I watched it until the bitter end. Definitely a rough start for the Bulldog’s.

Tomorrow is unscheduled, too, once church is over, but I have enough pricing and sorting for the Fresno Doll Sale next weekend to keep me busy night and day until then.

What’s on your agenda for tomorrow?

Friday nights

Tags

blanket tents, cousins, Friday nights, popcorn, snacks

School started here August 14, which makes this the second “official” Friday night of the school year. Friday nights in the summer are lovely, especially for families where the breadwinner works a nine-to-five job. But once school starts, Friday nights gain magical powers.

At our house, the joys of Friday night begin as soon as the last bell rings: No homework for the weekend! Instead of coming home, grabbing a snack, and settling down with her math and reading homework before enjoying any downtime, Lily starts planning her evening’s agenda in the car on the way home. Sometimes it includes playing with her cousins who live down the street. Sometimes (like tonight) she hangs out with Mom, Dad, and Sister in the back yard until way after dark.

Tonight’s tent, assembled with clothes pins, laundry baskets, and bedcovers.

And on those really special evenings, she and her little sister make a wonderful tent in the middle of the living room and sleep where they stop moving. Tonight’s tent-and-a-movie experience was enhanced by a big bowl of buttery popcorn. What could be better?

The Big Buick

Tags

1953 Buick Roadmaster, bells and whistles, family cars, Grolier's Book of Knowledge, learning to drive, Scotch coolers, The Big Buick

This morning while cruising Daddy’s photo album, looking for pictures of my Uncle Jim who died earlier this week, I found what I couldn’t find when I was writing about vehicles: Some beautiful pictures of my favorite car of all time, the one we called The Big Buick. (And yes, the words were always capitalized when they were spoken. This car was IMPORTANT.) It was a 1953 Buick Roadmaster, and over the years it developed a life of its own. We had a few other things around our house growing up that were capitalized for emphasis. The Good Books (not The Bible, but Grolier’s Book of Knowledge). Mom’s Room (source of all that is wonderfully secret at Christmastime). You get the idea.

Daddy had a habit of buying and selling vehicles. I remember a couple of times when we had two cars and a truck, and Daddy was the only driver. But he bought The Big Buick not too long after I had a bad accident that left me bleeding and in desperate need of a dentist, and Mom didn’t have a car at home to drive. It was huge, British racing car green, with a cream top. And it had all the bells and whistles possible.

Mind you, this was a 1953 model, but it had front and back radio speakers with independent controls. And it had hydraulic power windows that could be raised and lowered from the driver’s side door or at each window. And power-adjusted seats.

The Big Buick, Easter 1957, Melody and Fawn

I remember Mom learning to drive in The Big Buick. After I had a rather harrowing experience with an uncovered septic tank, a cave-in, and a desperate need to get me to a dentist to fix my face, Mom finally bowed to the need for a driver’s license. And ten years later, chomping at the bit but much more nervous than I had expected, I learned to drive in the same car. And many years after that we discovered that, when we would take the Menehune Maru, our little fishing boat, off the beach at Avila’s third pier, my very young but very scared to be in the boat little brother would take The Big Buick out for a joyride into Avila Beach proper, and sometimes on into San Luis Obispo. He truly kept his guardian angels hopping, as he never had a single mishap, and always managed to get the car back into the right parking place with the boat trailer re-attached before we came back ashore.

When we vacationed, Mom and Daddy would load The Big Buick’s backseat floors with our luggage and miscellaneous “stuff”, and build a bed the full width of the car. This provided plenty of room for three kids over a 10-year age span to sprawl, eat, sleep, and otherwise be comfortable on our travels. And on the floor on the front passenger seat would sit our Scotch Cooler, home of frozen grapes, orange slices, and snow cone ice. Sometimes there was even room for Mom’s feet, but not often.

And when we were really craving excitement, Daddy would take us to a stretch of road not far from home where there were “arroyos” or water run-off channels, and we would approach the dip with Melody shrieking her baby voice into Daddy’s ear, “Go fatter, Daddy, go fatter!” And he would.

What about you? Is there a favorite vehicle in your past, one that is so wound up in your family history that you’re not sure where the stories begin and end? Tell us about it in the comments, or send me a message. I would love to share.

Ice bucket challenge

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ALS, Bishop David Rice, Deacon Teri Van Huss, Diocese of San Joaquin, Ice Bucket Challenge, Rev. Suzy Ward, St. Paul's Episcopal Church -- Visalia

Our priest and deacon accept the Ice Bucket Challenge while Olivia, Lily, and the rest of the congregation look on encouragingly.

I have been enjoying the ALS Ice Bucket Challenges that people have been posting and sharing. It astounds me how people can embrace an idea and create so much good for so many people.

This past Sunday after coffee hour, our priest, Suzy Ward, and our deacon, Teri Van Huss, accepted Bishop Rice’s Ice Bucket Challenge, and with full congregational fanfare were appropriately doused with buckets of ice water. (In deference to this crazy drought we are dealing with in California, the location of their dousing was on the small patch of lawn in the back yard of The Little House.) They have issued their own challenge to other clergy in the Diocese of San Joaquin.

There is an offering basket in The Little House for contributions to ALS. Let’s be generous.

Being a grown-up

Tags

adulthood, aunts and uncles, chocolate, cousins, death, etsy shops, family, forts, mourning

If you need me, I’ll be in my blanket fort coloring!

I don’t think I want to be an adult any more. I think being an adult is over-rated. In fact, today I think that being an adult stinks!

If you need me, I’ll be in my blanket fort coloring. Or in the garden hiding behind the clothesline. Or driving around aimlessly in my Jeep, eating chocolate and talking on the phone.

Today started out nicely, as I spent the morning picking the brain of a sweet friend about the mysteries, perks, and pitfalls of having an etsy store. I am excited about a potential new direction for my Close To My Heart business and a sales venue for many of my mother’s things. Who knew etsy had a vintage division? I certainly did not!

The day started its downward slide as I talked with my cousin about how well her father-in-law, my most favorite uncle, was doing now that he is home from the hospital. It got a little better when my sister answered her phone and we started talking about that same uncle and how he is progressing. (For those of you who have been reading for awhile, this uncle is the husband of my precious Aunt Betty I have written about more than once.)

The truth is that none of us know when it is our time to go Heavenward. So we must make the effort to gather our loved ones around us. So I was talking to my sister on the phone (again about Uncle Phil and Aunt Betty) when our brother called. I just let it ring and kept talking. And he called back again, which is unusual. I put Melody on hold to talk to Donnie, only to hear that my east coast (actually southern) most favorite uncle (my dad’s little brother) had died. Our first concern, of course, was Daddy, and whether he was up to a cross-country trip for his brother’s funeral. And then for our aunt, who relied very heavily on her husband and now would be bereft.

We talked about the reverberations of Uncle Jim’s death throughout our family…about the great-grandchildren who would lose their playmate, about (in my case at least) remembering Uncle Jim before he married Aunt Jackie and gave us cousins. About how he in no way was the one we had thought would be the next relative to approach Heaven’s gates. And we came to one golden conclusion:

Being a grown-up bites! We are tired of having loved ones die and having to report the news to other loved ones. We are tired of watching loved ones become more and more confused and frail. And (this goes for me only) I am not feeling up to the challenge of becoming the next matriarch of our clan.

So if anyone needs me, I’ll be in my blanket fort, coloring.

Picking and choosing

Tags

favorite blog posts, Peace Love and Patchouli, poetry, Ruby Slippers Sunday

A blogging friend of mine recently put out a call for guest bloggers to appear on her site on Sundays. She calls them “Ruby Slippers”, and has had some very delightful guest posts. With some trepidation I shot her an email volunteering for a guest post, and received a gracious affirmative reply.

Then the fun (and challenge) began. Never did I think that picking a favorite blog post would be so difficult! It was rather like having to pick a favorite child…well nigh impossible.

I began at the beginning and read forward, taking notes along the way of posts that I thought might have a wide appeal. Then I whittled my list down to two, which I sent back to my friend with a request that she make the final selection. And on Sunday we will see her choice.

Meanwhile, if you would like to visit her at Peace, Love, and Patchouli, here you are.

‘Ohana

Tags

"Huk" Planas, Duke Kahanamoku, Duke's Place, Maui, ohana, The Guest House, The Tournament of Kings

‘Ohana means family. Families are bound together and members must cooperate and remember each other, according to Wikipedia. And ‘ohana is such an integral part of Hawaiian culture that an ‘ohana unit is part of a house or a separate structure on the same lot that may contain a relative, but which may not be rented to the general public.

I am missing Hawaii tonight, and especially missing that spirit of ‘ohana that we felt with each visit. It was there at The Guest House in Lahaina, where we were welcomed into the home of an aunt of one of my daughter’s classmates. On a later visit, it included helping decorate the Christmas tree with seashells and Hawaii-themed ornaments, and teenagers on street corners passing out candy canes from pillow cases. Mele Kalekemaka!

It continued the year we timed our visit for The Tournament of Kings, and after the competition was over we were invited back to the home of a local student of Mr. “Huk” Planas for a luau and music…the Scotch flowed and the mood was mellow, and I could have stayed there forever, mesmerized by the guitar and ukulele. Even the geckos were content as they sat by the lamps waiting for bugs to snack on.

My beautiful sister in our kitchen at Lahaina Shores, June 2011.

And the last time…my sister was with me, and we shared all my favorite places on Maui. I watched a YouTube video about Duke Kahanamoku, who saved the tradition of surfing and popularized it outside of Hawaii, and remembered sitting at Duke’s Place and listening to the waves on the shore. The only thing better would be to have my whole family with me.

Which brings me back to ‘ohana. ‘Ohana means family.

Showers

Tags

bridal showers, bride and groom, decor, family, weddings

According to Wikipedia, “a bridal shower is a gift-giving party held for a bride-to-be in anticipation of her wedding. The custom originated in the 1890s and is today most common in the United States, Canada, Australia and New Zealand.”

Today it was my pleasure to participate in showering a young friend in anticipation of her upcoming wedding. I received the ultimate compliment when the bride’s friend who was keeping track of presents (for thank you notes later) listed me as “Aunt Fawn”, and then asked which side of the family I was on. The bride was a high school coworker of my daughters many years ago; the girls introduced their mothers, and we bonded over scrapbooks. The person who wrote “a friend is a gift you give yourself” was most certainly describing us.

Directions for the Bride and Groom

A well-done bridal shower is a truly magical event, as it reflects the joy and anticipation of the upcoming wedding, but purely focused on the bride-to-be and her mother. And this one was masterfully done, from the tiniest detail of the decor to the delicious brunch buffet (and, of course, the presents).

Next up: The wedding. I can hardly wait!

Sentimental journey

My sister and brother-in-law made it to California today, and even though I will not be seeing them this trip, I am so happy they are here. I know it makes no sense, but my heart’s logic says that having her in California is much better than in Ohio. This is a sentimental journey for them, back to the town of his childhood. I hope it is a satisfying visit for them both.

Visits “home” are hard sometimes. Vistas change, landmarks disappear or are replaced, you no longer run into friends on every street corner. Or (possibly even worse) you do, and they have changed so much that you have no memory of why you were ever friends.

And going home when your parents are no longer living is bittersweet, at best. I know half of that story, as I go home each month to my parents’ home without Mom there. In my case her personality was so strong (and collections so numerous) that reminders are everywhere, and I glory in them.

Happy traveling, Melody and Ken.