My Vintage Soul

Stop and Smell the Lilacs

A true spring isn't a sure thing in upstate New York. Often the seasons seem to go from winter to summer in a week. People still talk about the year that it snowed on Mother's Day. Yes, on Mother's Day.

But this spring has been spectacular, truly one to savor. Perhaps a sign of how good things might be was when I picked up this little tin at a yard sale a few weeks ago. It was a dime and the flowers on it reminded me of my favorite spring flower -- lilacs.

My lilacs have been in full bloom for more than a week. They look great and they smell even better. As soon as you step outdoors, the fragrance envelopes you.

This is my favorite variety. I searched all over for it because it's so unique. I love the white edges on the flowers. It's called 'Sensation' for obvious reasons. This year it has been, well, sensational.

Don't you wish you had a smell-a-puter?

Junking Jackpot

There are many vintage things that I like. Actually, my husband would say there are TOO many vintage things that I like, but that's probably a different post.

Three such items that I don't see often enough are Halloween, millinery flowers and wallpaper. And this weekend, I found all three. It was, quite simply, a junking jackpot.

On Thursday, I happened on a garage sale in a neighborhood filled with tidy 1950s ranches. At first, it didn't look too promising. I was greeted by a table of used stretch pants, hardly something I would want to wear even brand-new. But in the back of the garage, I came across two packages of what I'm guessing are 1960s Halloween party decorations from W.T. Grant.

Now I'm not that crazy about the safety-orange and lime-green party hats, but 12 crepe paper nut cups for $1? I'm sold. Maybe I'll embellish them with some handles and vintage Halloween die cuts. I might even salvage the fugly party hats with a little glitter and more crepe paper. Other ideas anyone?

Also at this sale, I spent another $1 on what's below. I can't seem to walk away from Christmas bulbs and bead garland, especially in the original package. The hankies were a dime each and the bridal shower game was a freebie.

Lessons learned here: Look beyond the stretch pants and always check the freebie box.

On Saturday, I found the second part of my jackpot at a family-run estate sale: vintage velvet millinery flowers. They were in a box on the back porch that I walked past twice. There are four large bunches of varying stems, plus a dozen or so single stems. I gathered every stem that I could find and asked how much. The woman conducting the sale told me $1 for everything. She said the flowers belonged to her mother and she thanked me for appreciating them. How could anyone not appreciate them? I think I nearly danced to the car.

Finally, on Sunday, I was driving around, looking over the latest discards for week five of town cleanup (it ends next week, by the way). From three houses away, I saw what appeared to be a vintage lampshade frame. It was. Next to it was an better find: Five rolls of vintage wallpaper. This is beautiful stuff; it looks handpainted. But it's really old and so fragile that it tears almost like onion skins. Getting a good picture was really a challenge, so I apologize for the blurriness.

I hardly think it will get much better, but that won't keep me from trying. My favorite church rummage sale, the one where I found great Christmas stuff last year, is on Thursday. But this is also the sale where I met the nemesis, who is sure to be there too. Guess you have to take the good with the not-so- good. Either way, I'll have more to blog about, won't I?

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms, especially mine. Yes, that's me, with Mom (in the fabulous plaid pants). She's lending me a little support, something she has done many times over the years.

One of the qualities I admire most about Mom is her sense of adventure. She is never afraid to try something new. I must have been thinking of her when I finally did more than just talk about starting a blog and actually did it. Mom also inspired my love of all things vintage although she probably didn't know it at the time. In my first post, I wrote about how, when I was a kid, she would frequently take me to farm auctions. And she reminds me that my trash-picking tendencies can be linked to her via her father. Grandpa had many occupations. He owned a gas station (boy, don't I wish I owned one now) and he was a trash man in Cincinnati, Ohio. Often, he would drag home the damaged boxes of detergent from the discard pile outside of Procter & Gamble. As a kid, I remember box upon box of Tide in Grandpa's cellar. How much soap was there? Let's put it this way. If the end of the world was coming, Grandpa was going in clean clothes (and so were the rest of us). Of course there was plenty to share, so no trip to Cincinnati was complete without us lugging home boxes of detergent and dish soap.

I'm sure Grandpa would have appreciated that I'm carrying on his legacy, so to speak. Earlier this spring I came across a scrapbook that had been tossed into a pile of trash during town cleanup. Inside were Mother's Day cards from the 1940s through the 1960s. When I brought the scrapbook home, I was thinking of the woman who saved all these cards and how each one must have been so precious to her. The mom in me felt compelled to save them and I'm thrilled to share them today.

Take a look. There are lots of flowers, bows and of course cute kids. I hope that's what your Mother's Day is all about.

Roadside Rescues Week 4

I know that town cleanup is winding down when the trash by the side of the road begins to look like, well, trash by the side of the road. There seem to be fewer treasures, or maybe I'm just not as interested because of all the rummage sales and garages sales. But on Friday morning, between dropping the kids off at school and rummage sale no. 1, I did manage to find these two treasures tossed in a rain-soaked box in the middle of almost nowhere.

The first is one of those slightly tacky ceramic Christmas trees. What I like about it is the richness of the green glazing and those funky white sweeps of snow. Can't you just see a circa-1970 housewife creating it in Ceramics 101? It was probably her big night out of the house, which would explain those wild-and-crazy snowdrifts. It's in pretty good shape but missing a few bulbs here and there. And so, shameless plea here, if you happen to have a few plastic bulbs you want to part with, let me know. They're about 1 inch long and fit a 1/4-inch hole.

Find no. 2 is what I think was part of a child's tea set, consisting of two cups, two matching saucers and a cute sugar bowl topped with a blue ribboned lid. For some reason, it reminds me of a mini Mrs. Potts (remember "Beauty and the Beast"? OK, I know it's a stretch.) There's also another larger ribboned lid, which may have gone to a teapot. Unfortunately, no sign of the teapot.

I wouldn't have seen the tree or the tea set if I hadn't slowed down to check out some Christmas greenery that turned out to be nothing special. Finding an unexpected treasure or two is why I say town cleanup is like a box of chocolates (Sorry, Forrest): I never know what I'm gonna get. And neither does my husband.

Rummage Report

What's better than a good church rummage sale? How about 3.5 good church rummage sales in three days? Yeah, I couldn't believe it either.

My run of luck started Thursday. At sale no. 1, I found vintage holiday (yes!) and flash cards (yes! yes!). I decided to take a chance on a 50-cent holiday tablecloth because I loved the red/green stencil-like graphics so much. With luck and some Oxi Clean, what appear to be coffee stains will come out. Fifteen minutes and $5 later, I was out of there.

Then on Friday, at sale no. 2, I bought more vintage Christmas, vintage Beistle shower decorations (saving those for another post about all my baby crap), a bagful of old plastic flowers, several 10-cent cookie cutters and a McCoy flower pot (75 cents!). I think I spent another $5 total. Sale no. 3 was five minutes away. There, I found three bolts of pom-pom fringe (red, white and green) and the best find of the weekend -- a sweet tulip canister. The tab was $6.

On Saturday, I hit a crappy sale. Well, would have been great if my kids were 3 and 5, but seeing that they're teenagers and I don't need baby clothes, baby toys or anything else baby (unless it's vintage), I made a quick tour of the room and left after 10 minutes without parting with a nickel. The last sale, late Saturday morning, was OK. Some Dennison gummed crepe paper sheets and a package of Christmas stencils, plus another box of flash cards, and I was done. Here's some of what I bought. Funny, but are you sensing some themes, too?

Santa planter, holiday tablecloth, NRA-approved Santa and Mrs. Claus salt-and-pepper shakers (check out his six-shooter and her shotgun) and three bolts of pop-pom fringe (to sell in my eventual Etsy empire).

Cookie cutter heaven, 10 cents each.

With all these flash cards for the mathematically-impaired, it looks like I'm running a numbers racket. Look at those folks on the Addo and Multo boxes, so happy to be playing what they think is Bingo. And, hey, don't you hate it when the rummage sale ladies screw up a perfectly good vintage box by writing a price on it??

Plastic flowers that I plan to add to the eventual Etsy empire, once I wash them off really good to get rid of the dust and the old lady smell.

Check out the cool graphics on the Dennison crepe paper package and those stencils. Who wouldn't want "magic in your fingers?" And that poor little girl; she must have looked forward to stenciling the windows all year.

Creepy or cute kittens? I could go either way but was powerless to resist at just 60 cents for both.

Find of the weekend: A sweet tulip canister. It was $3 and I think it's related to Barb's.

Ready to Rummage

Around here, winter can be tough. We get through 100-plus inches of snow different ways. Some embrace the season, some hunker down, and some (me included) look forward to a sure sign of spring: The church rummage/garage sale.

In the next two weeks there are at least a half-dozen such sales on my agenda and more seem to pop up every day. In fact, there's one Thursday and another on Friday that I plan to attend. You could say I'm ready to rummage.

Why do I love a good rummage sale so much? Well, what's not to love?

One good rummage sale is akin to what Barbara wrote about here. It's like at least a dozen "years of accumulation" sales in one location. I've found some of my favorite treasures at such sales, and usually at bargain prices, including several pieces of white pottery, Christmas decorations and lots of vintage clothing and shoes that have become part of my daughters' costume closet.

Pottery from two different church sales. I don't think I paid more than a dollar or two for each piece.

I love the little old ladies who staff the sales. Sometimes they gather in a little circle for a prayer right before the sale begins. Taking a cue from them, I think, Lord, help me find good stuff.

These ladies are almost always nice enough to price anything unmarked right on the spot, and usually quite reasonably. At one sale, I found an old papermache Santa boot. When I asked how much, I was quoted a nickel. A nickel? I think I gave the woman a dollar and told her to keep the change.

I love how a good rummage sale is clean and well-organized. The little old ladies spend hours sorting and arranging items by category (toys, clothing, books, housewares, etc.). At one sale that I really love (the one with the Santa boot of course), there's actually a holiday room, where the Christmas ornaments are hung on trees and priced at a dime or a quarter each.

I also love that there's usually a bake sale. If I don't find a treasure to buy (and that seldom happens), I can always bring home a pie or cookies, and what's not to love about that?

And then there's the grand finale: The bag sale. In its closing hours, a good rummage sale lets you buy a grocery bag for a few dollars and fill it up with what's left. The bargains get even better when that happens.

But there are a couple of things I don't love about rummage sales. Not every one is a good one. It seems they go in cycles; good one year, not so good the next. And then there are the antics of my fellow treasure seeks, who seem to get more aggressive every year. I sometimes wish that the secret of a good rummage sale was all mine.

What will this year's crop of sales bring? I'll soon know. Wish me luck and say a little prayer, too.

The Santa boot and an ornament. And, yes, that cute flocked soldier was really just a dime.

A sad song

I didn't think there could be anything more frustrating than coming home empty-handed after junking all day. But last night I saw this treasure at the curb, with no way to rescue it.

Actually, this is the third piano I've come across in about five years of cruising our town's annual spring cleanup. The first one was badly warped and in pieces. Still, I was shocked that someone could toss a piano (a piano!!) like it was just another bag of trash. Two years ago, I saw another one, which was also pretty beat up and painted, I kid you not, lime green.

But this last piano had a lot of life left in it. It was a classic mahogany upright and it still sounded pretty good. It was the type of piano that my children learned on and still play, which explained why I didn't need yet another one. Rescuing it was a battle against time and the elements that I just couldn't win.

It was nearly dark when I found it and of course there wasn't a piano mover in sight. Rain had been forecast for the following day. I knew either the town's haulers would pick it up first thing in the morning (as early as 7 a.m.) or it was going to sit there all day in the rain. Walking away, I felt so guilty and so sad that this gift of music and learning was going to go to waste. I'm still not sure if I did the right thing.

But onto happier things -- a few of the weekend's treasures that I was able to bring home. First, these roadside finds: Croquet balls (so Country Living, don't you think?).

I also went to a few estate sales, including one in a grand center hall Colonial with at least five bedrooms. But the attic, one of my favorite spots for finds, was closed off. I spent $2 on the miscellaneous 1950s-60s holiday bling (below). I think they're package ties and I'll probably put them on wreaths. There were also some foil Dresdenlike angel figures and some old Christmas corsages, which didn't photograph well but are still pretty.

Finally, I also found these 1940s instructional books (both for 50 cents). I haven't crocheted or knitted in years but I'm intrigued by the floral theme and the notion that women actually had the time to create colorful edgings for all things imaginable, including, I'm sure, (sniff sniff) piano scarves.

Rules of the Road

A pile that didn't make me stop (other than to take this photo out the car window). I wasn't looking for cheesy framed prints of bug-eyed children. But someone else was, because two days after I took the photo, the print was gone. The flowery grandma chair is still there.

After two weeks of great vintage finds, the pickings were slim for week three of town cleanup. I drove past lots of broken lawn furniture, several rusty gas grills and piles of, OK, icky trash, and I didn't bite.  I did stop to consider a sweet old doll bed, but passed because it was too bulky and I couldn't figure out what I to do with it. My only finds were two Christmas wreaths to recycle and some old lampshades that I'm going to turn into, well, something. I decided to grab them and be inspired later, because they were a lot easier to toss into the car than the baby bed.

A slow week gives me the chance to tell anyone who's reading this, other than my Mom, that I do have some guidelines when it comes to roadside junking. I call them my Rules of the Road.

1. I may joke that I'm a trash picker, but I'm actually more of a trash cruiser. What's the difference? I have to see something that intrigues me or something that I've been looking for to stop the car. The item has to be solid or salvageable. I don't mind painting or making a minor repair or two, but I've learned that if I need to do more, my "find" probably will be in my discard pile the next year.

2. If I find something, I'll look around, which is how I came across the scrapbook. I'll look into open boxes but I will never, ever open a sealed bag. Frankly, that strikes me as snoopy and I'm just too squeamish about what I might find.

3. If I find something good, I grab it because I've learned that she who hesitates gets beat by the professional pickers (the ones with pickup trucks). There are no second chances when it comes to junking.

4. Finally, no upholstered furniture. It's either ugly or smelly, or both. I learned this a few years ago when I retrieved a chair that looked good, but, oh, that smell. It's an experience that my husband will never let me forget, one that can be summed up in two words: Cat pee. 'Nuff said.

No, it's not the "Beverly Hillbillies." This is a "professional" picker, loaded with mostly metal finds and probably bound for the scrap yard.

The Nemesis

Do you have a nemesis? You know, that person who seems to turn up at every sale that you do?

I do.

This woman became my nemesis the day she took every vintage craft item from the "free basket" at a church rummage sale a few years ago. Admittedly, the items were free, but this was a church rummage sale. Wouldn't you think that you could behave yourself at a place where God and a bunch of little old ladies are watching? It seems like the perfect place to maybe even practice The Golden Rule and share just a little.

Of course the nemesis is overbearing and I swear that sometimes my nemesis follows me. At one sale I remember putting down something that I decided not to buy only to have her grab it and announce something like, "Oh, I'll take that. Some people don't know what's really valuable."

I write about the nemesis not just to complain, although venting does make me feel just a little better about that freebie basket. As yard sale season officially beings (according to Barbara), I want to remind us that a little kindness goes a long way. Junking should be fun, not a contact sport, especially with my nemesis near by.

There's nothing better than having a yard/estate sale buddy like Barbara. Frequently we share what what we find, especially when one of us is lucky enough to buy vintage wallpaper. At one sale this winter, she found this cute ruler, and knowing she already had one at home, gave it to me. Thanks again, Barb.

Christmas in April

I frequently say that town cleanup is the most wonderful time of the year. Actually, it's the second most wonderful time of the year, because nothing quite compares to the glittery magic of Christmas. During cleanup, discarded decorations -- usually artificial trees and tree stands -- are frequently tossed to the curb. I've also picked up a number of wreaths that I've recycled into vintage ornament wreaths and I'll share some in a future post. Last week, during week two of the annual cleanup, I found some true holiday treasures -- vintage ones. The trio of bottle brush trees were in a box that was tossed on top of a huge pile of um, stuff (OK, most of it was icky junk). I can't decide if the Santa bank is a scary Santa or a smiling Santa. You know, there's a fine line between the two. The little white bottle brush wreath was on a plastic Santa sleigh that was too tacky, even for me, to keep. Also in that pile was something else I couldn't resist, this old scrapbook. Yes, it's falling apart and more than a little musty-smelling, which is why it's still in the garage airing out. What attracted to me to it besides the wonderful old cover is that it's filled with some of the most beautiful vintage cards that I have ever seen. Many of them are Mother's Day cards and the mom in me  couldn't walk away. What mother would you want her Mother's Day cards in the Dump of Doom? On Mother's Day, I'll share some of the cards with you. Maybe that should be the topic du jour for Show and Tell Sunday .