Tag Archives: vintage

The Library: My Office Away from Home

Hello Monday

Since this weekend was a bust, I decided to show you our library, my office away from home.

I mean, I could talk about how FringeMan came down with the stomach bug, but that’s not a good Monday morning topic.  Let’s just say I declared the second floor of our house a contamination zone and I slept on the couch.  The kids and I stayed as far away from home as possible, so of course that meant at least one trip to the library.

Library: my office away from home

This room is my office away from home.  I plant myself here every time I come to the library.  Usually the entire table is covered with my junk, a few books, and a random magazine or two.  I use the power strip on the floor to plug in my laptop and I go to town.

They have a coffee machine too.  What more do you need?

Books – Coffee – WiFi

Antique bookcases in the public libraryThese bookcases are in my office.  They help me feel smart.

vintage book caes - library

Our library is part old house and part 70’s mod addition.  If you walk from room to room too quickly, you end up in a time warp.

I’ll just show you the old part today.

conference room in library

sitting area in libraryIsn’t this a pretty little nook?  It’s the perfect place for a game of chess or lunch with a friend.  At Christmas, they had a pretty tree right in front of those windows.

vintage lighting fixture on old tray ceiling

The ceilings and moldings are the true masterpieces.  They just don’t build modern houses with such artistic details.

antique lighting fixture, mirror, American flag

As the story goes, and I hope I remember all the facts, our library had a great big fire that made their building unusable.  A family in town donated this house to be used as the new library.  Some time after the addition was built.

antinque light fixture in library

The library is right in the center of town and we often walk to it.

reflection of a women in the mirror

You would think I wouldn’t have any late fees, but I do.

I have long history with libraries.  I’ll leave it at that.

libraries conference room antique furniture

vintage Jaddte lampThis lamp looks like Jadite, but I’m not sure.  Maybe I should convince them to let me bring it the antiques roadshow or something.

collection of vintage ceramic dogs

The library also has random collections of old things, like these ugly ceramic dogs.  They change the collections out from time to time so the patrons can enjoy them.

antique bronze statue of a man

And no library tour would be complete without a naked man on the mantel.

Yes, this is in my office.

So that completes my library tour, at least the really old portion of it.  Despite the antiques, the card catalog is computerized and the librarians are absolute dolls.  They teach us the history of the town and area, get us whatever books we want, and know us by name.

I love my library.

What about you?  Do you visit your library very often?

Hello Monday, Hello Fall

American Flag in cemetary with Cross

Hello Monday.

Are you sure you only have 24 hours, because my to-do list is really, really long today.  I want to do it all, but we’ll see.  I would settle for a almost all.

Hello Early Fall.

I love you.  Mostly because I love boots and I can wear my boots every single day if I want.  I also love pumpkins and hot drinks and pumpkin pie spice coffee creamer.

Some days I want you to stay forever, but I know I will love you less and less as the days pass.  It’s not you really, it’s the season you usher in.  If it were just you, I would most certainly love you forever.

Vintage Owl on Etsy

Hello Little Owl.

Are you as in love with owls as I am?

I just cannot help myself.  I am happy to report that this little vintage mama owl hugging her babies is now available in The Fringe Shop.

A matching sugar & creamer set is also available.  They are so cute I want to keep them, but alas, I need their adorableness for my shop.

Hello 31 Days of Living by Faith.

blog button 31 Days of Living by FaithOh, my word!  I am freaking out a little.  Who came up with the idea of writing 31 Days of Living by Faith anyway?

Laura.  That is who.

It’s OK Laura.  I needed the push, so thank you.  I mean it.

As for writing it and living it, I am doing my best friends.  You’ll forgive me for the rest, won’t you?

31 Days of Living by Faith – Here in ONE WEEK!

Grab a button and join us in October.

Lisa Leonard is hosting Hello Monday.  Go say Hi!

Heart of A War Bride

Today I am linking with a Mom2MemphisAndRuby for Thrifty Finds Link Party. Hope over and see lots of other great finds…after you read this post and see mine. 😉

redrosevintage

My name is Ade Johnson.  I was born in Brooklyn, New York  on a warm summer’s night in 1920.  I am the oldest of four children, three of us girls and my brother, Patrick.  He was drafted nine months ago and his last letter arrived in October, eighty-three days without correspondance.  My mother sits in her room and cries for hours.  My sister’s can’t understand her melancholy, but I know.

Now, I do know.

I met Jim at the spring dance.  Every available person under the age of thirty was there.  War loomed near and we took full advantage of any excuse for a little fun.

I could smell the garbage on eighteenth street and yesterday’s rotting fish from down at the wharf, but only faintly.  Perfume was the smell that whirled around girls skirts, little wafts escaped with every flip of the hair.  It was intoxicating.

Well, that and Jim’s blue eyes.  I hadn’t ever seen eyes so blue, like the lake in that child’s book my mother read over and over to my little sister Betsie.  I got lost in those lakes, dance after dance, until he stopped me to go for drinks.  Told me he couldn’t dance another minute, not even with a pretty girl like me, until he had some punch.

I knew that night – I think I knew by the end of the first dance – I would love James Johnson the Third till death do us part.

Only I never figured death as part of our lives.  We were too young, too strong, too in love.

We were to be married on May tenth, my father’s birthday.  He would have loved Jim, but an accident down at the warehouse took him from us just after Betsie was born.  I feared my mother wouldn’t make it, but she clung to Betsie like she was her lifeline, her last connection to her husband of eighteen and a half years.

The day Jim received a letter saying his draft card was pulled is the day I began to die inside.  I had a bad feeling, but I kept a smile on face, right up to the time Jim boarded that train.  I didn’t let him see me cry.  Mother said I should be strong for him.  He needed to know I would be well, that I would wait for him.

I tried to convince him to marry me before he left.  I wanted to elope, to run far away with him, far away from war and the army, and I never wanted to return.  He said we couldn’t do that.  He was glad to go to war.  Oh, he would miss me, I knew that, but the call of duty was stronger than love itself.

I hate the war.  I hate the army.  I hate duty and drab green uniforms.

The night before he left, Jim and I sat on the water’s edge.  The wharf was busy with activity, day and night, but for us, there were only two people on the dock that night.

He reached into his pocket and pulled a little silver ring out, a promise ring – a promise to return, to love me forever, to make me his wife.

Taking my hand, he slipped the ring on my left ring finger, where my wedding should have been going.  He told me that he would think of me every single day and when I started missing him, all I had to do was look down at his heart, the heart I was wearing on my fourth finger.

Our names were inscribed – Jim + Ade.

Right next to our names was the year, 1942.  The year we should have been married.

I said it was bad luck putting the year on the ring.  1942 wasn’t the end, only the beginning.  Our love would last so many years, as many years as forever.

Jim laughed at me.  He didn’t believe in luck, only love.

Now it’s 2007, a lifetime of years away from 1942.  I still look down at the fourth finger on my left hand every time I’m missing him.  Jim never came home.  He was killed in Berlin on February 25, 1943.

I’m so old now.  I’m almost glad Jim can’t see me with all my wrinkles and thin hair.  My eyes aren’t so good anymore, but in my mind, I still see his blue eyes.  Every time I close my eyelids, his blue lakes look down on me.  Some days I will my eyes not to open.  I just want to get lost in a sea of blue, in the memory of love.

I won’t be around much longer.  I never married and have no children.  I am not alone in this world though.  Jim is with me in my heart.  I do hope I am burried with the ring on my wedding finger.

vintage war bride ring of loveI don’t know if Ade’s story is similar, but every time I look down at this ring I rescued from a pile of old junk, this is the love story that comes to mind.

I really hope Jim + Ade lived happily ever after.  1942 may have only been the beginning for them, but I’ll never know.  I’ll think of them though.  Every time I look down at my hand.

Sorry I can’t get a clear picture of the inscription.  I tried.  Oh, boy did I try, but I lack photography skills and a good camera, so you’ll just have to trust me.

Did you ever find a treasure and imagine a story to go with it?

I Stop for It

Sometimes FringeMan and I have different opinions.  We don’t always agree, especially when it comes to junk.  I see treasure in things he thinks are trash, and sometimes he sees the diamond in what I know is lump of useless coal.  That’s what keeps us from being hoarders.  We compromise, throw stuff out, and vow to never bring another piece of junk into the house again.

I promised myself in my head that I wouldn’t stop at any yard sales this summer.  I mean, what do I need?  If I’ve lived this long wihtout it, it most certainly cannot be a need.  I told myself not to do anything impulsive, especially when a trash heap is involved.  On Saturday I passed by four SALE signs without even a second glance.  I was pretty confident I had temptation beat.  It’s been about six weeks since an M&M went through my lips and if I can have victory over candy-coated chocolate, anything is possible.  I was flying high until Sunday night.

The glance was purely accidental.  I promise and my fingers are not crossed behind my back.  I didn’t mean to fall in love, but that’s the way it happens isn’t it?

The pile of junk was so small, just four little things.  My head spun on my shoulders like a broken record, and before I could utter a gasp, Fringeman said, “Oh, no.  Don’t even look!  We can’t bring any junk into the house.”

All I heard was “Blah, blah, blah.”

“Did you see that metal cart?”  I asked.

“You mean that piece of junk?  No way am I stopping.”

“But it’s sunshiny yellow.”

He turned around of course.  He loves me, and besides I went to the Harley Dealership with him.  Remember?

vintage yellow cart

She cleaned up real well.  Don’t ya think?

vintage yellow cart nightstand

FringeMan always wants to know “What are you going to do with it?”

I can’t always answer that question right away, mostly because I know he won’t like the answer.

I don’t think he’s noticed that it’s in our bedroom yet.  By the time he does, it will be part of the family.  Besides, it was FREE.  How could I let it go to the dump?

I’m historian almost, a rescuer of Americana.  Now I just have to convince FringeMan of that.

Do odd items in the middle of a rubbish heap sometimes call your name?

P.S.  The lamp is another rescue.  You can see my $10 makeover HERE.

Finding Space for Creativity

My husband loves me.

Know how I know?

The other day when he was rewiring a 200-year-old house, he took down a little light fixture and walked it over to the dumpster.  Just as he was about to toss it in, he thought, “I should save this for my wife.  She would like it.”

So you girls can keep your flowers and chocolates.  I’ll take my vintage light love any day of the week.

I’ve been thinking that I need to carve out a little niche in my house and make it my “office” space.  I love using the kitchen island and all, but I really would enjoy a more private, inspirational space to doodle and twirl my hair write and create.

My house doesn’t have much spare space, but eventually, I’m going to make this happen.

I’m thinking my niche needs a parson’s metal desk like this one.

via westelm.com

With a cute red chair like this.

Crate&Barrel.com

And a bubble glass lamp like this.

via PierOne.com

I know I keep going back to Dr. Suess colors, but I love them.

Then I’d throw some bookshelves up on the wall and have FringeMan install that cute little vintage light under one of the shelves, so the light would shine down on my books and piles of papers and other assorted junk.

I may even throw a cookie jar like this on one of the book shelves, only I’d fill it with M&M’s.

picture taken by me in Barnes & Nobles

And then I’d be inspired to write a New York Times bestseller.  Or at least a good blog post. 🙂

Do you have a special place carved into your home where you work?

Or do you sit at the kitchen table like me?

Thank you FringeMan for thinking of me.  I love my vintage light so much that I’ve created an entire space for it to live in.  Aren’t you excited?

The Day Christmas Came..in August?

You know how we tell our children that Christmas isn’t all about the presents?  Well, Friday was all about the presents for me.  It was the day I thought Christmas had come in August.

With a thud heard around the house, the mailman dropped a great big box on my doorstep.  Both FringeKid and I dropped what we were doing and scrambled for the door.  Excitement oozed from our flapping jaws and waving hands as we gleefully pulled treasure after fine treasure from our package.

The sweet and awesome Mrs. Claus LeAnn from Vintage Sassy blessed me with gifts for my home.  As I fingered each item, my mind immediately placed it around the house.  Giddily I thought, “She sent me her best stuff!”

And I was right.  Look and see…warning: my pictures don’t do these items justice.

Beautiful Patchwork Quilt

I’ve been contemplating moving this quilt to my bed, but then I get sad that every person who walks through my door won’t see it.  Right now it has a place of honor in my living room.

Cute Pillow

I adore this painting of the woman on the beach.  Each and every winter day, I will imagine I am she.

My love is equal for this painting.  She reminds me of my Miranda Chicken recipe, and I almost want to go cook dinner when I look at her.  The colors are amazing!

I plan on hanging both of these paintings, but I need to grab something from the hardware store first.

Look at these cute linens!  There were a few more in the pile, but I got creative.

What do you think?  The wind from the open window is billowing them in this photo.

I really like these linens hanging in my window!  They’ll look even better once I actually paint the window.  It’s a look my mom hates, but I think she’ll have to deal with it, because I can’t seem to stray far from hanging old tablecloths in my kitchen window.  It’s a glitch in my DNA.

You are looking at two milk glass candle holders piled on top of each other.  I have reserved them a place on my soon to be made dining room table.  One catch, we have to renovate the dining room first.  It will come…

Somehow I forgot to take pictures of the cutest pillows on this planet, so I’ll save them for another post.

Go visit LeAnn @ Vintage Sassy.  Browse through her posts and home, because you’ll be delighted by her warm and happy style.  Don’t forget to tell her I sent you!  Oh, and make sure you see her kitchen!!!  😉

LeAnn,

Thank you bunches for being the sweet, kind woman God made you.  I’ll have fun rearranging my treasures for months to come, and of course, I’ll think of you all the time!

With Much Junk Love,

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Summer’s Smiles and Steals

SUMMER IS…

Drinking my morning coffee on the porch while it’s still cool and before I’ve tamed my wildly frizzy hair.

Shaking off the morning grump while the sun is shining and the birds are chirping.

Listening to little boys giggle as they try to look inside their belly buttons.

Strawberry jam on homemade wheat bread.

Lazy days and long nights.

Summer is also yard-sale season.  Believe me, I wait all year for people to haul their junk out of the basement and spread it out on the lawn.  I don’t know who made up the saying about airing your dirty laundry, but they weren’t junkers.

Look at this cute shirt!  It brings me back to my childhood.

The difference between an eight year old posing and a thirty-five twenty-eight year old posing for a photo is the stomach.

I love how my daughter purposely puffs out her stomach, because I know that when she gets to be my age, she’ll take a deep breath and suck her stomach in until it’s touching her spine.  There’s freedom of the airways when you’re eight.

Although I wasn’t planning on hitting any yard-sales today, there happened to be a woman having a moving sale and she was right around the corner from me.  How could I not support a neighbor?

I love this little glass Christmas set.  The colors match my kitchen perfectly and the entire set was only $2.  That’s 4 cups, a platter, 4 dinner plates, 4 salad bowls, and 4 desert plates.

Then she let me fill a box for a buck.  I honestly felt bad.  It was like stealing, but she insisted that she just wanted to get rid of stuff.

These rusty old galvanized buckets are going to become planters for my porch.  Can’t you just see them overflowing with pink and purple flowers?  That metal thing on top is a frame from a lamp shade.  I’m going to paint it and then hang a light bulb in the middle.  Won’t that be so cute?  FringeMan thinks I’m nuts and he’s going to make me do my own wiring on this one, but he’ll see…

Oh, and I almost forget this little thing.

I never buy stuff like that, but I thought this little thing was so cute.  It’s made from old fabric circles…I forget what they are called…help me remember please.

What is summer to you?