My Vintage Soul

Pay It Forward

I bagged my biggest Spring Cleanup find ever when I went back to the huge box of vintage fabric for, ironically, a hunting print fabric, which has images of deer, hunters and pheasants on it. It's now in my Etsy shop.*

As I traveled home with my fabric, there on the side of the road, was something I had always wanted: A garden arbor. It was one of those plastic ones and it appeared to be in good condition. I had visions of it framing the entry to our garden.

But there was no way that I could fit it into my Subaru Forester and I certainly would need help to get it on top. Further complicating matters was that it was getting dark and that I was on a fairly busy road. And I knew if I drove home without it that I'd be kissing it goodbye. Someone else would quickly snatch it up.

What do do? What to do? 

As I pondered that dilemma, help came from an unlikely duo: a mother-daughter team of metal junkers who had actually stopped at our house when we put out our castoffs a few weeks earlier. We had given them several metal items and they told us that they sold metal to be able to put gas in their old pickup truck. Which made me appreciate what I have all the more.

And now, they were helping me put the arbor on top of my car and tie it down. Luckily I didn'’t have too far to go, so I drove slowly, just like an old lady, with flasher lights on all the way. Back home, I got the arbor off the car and tied it to the deck, so it wouldn’'t blow over, and that was where Mr. VS found it the next morning.

When he caught up with me later in the day, the conversation between us went something like this: 

Mr VS: How big was the cat that helped you drag that thing home last night?

Me: I had some help.

Mr. VS: I’'m sure you did. Who?

Me: Shut the truck down! (Which is what the metal-seeking mama said to her younguns when we gave them a rusted-out grill, metal pieces from our dismantled swingset and some old tools).

Mr. VS: Shut the truck down? You'’re kidding.

No, I wasn'’t. I guess that if you pay it forward that sometimes your reward is greater than just knowing that you'’ve done a good deed. 

And now, the arbor is in place as the gateway to our newly fenced garden, or as Mr. VS calls it "the gulag for vegetables."’’ By mid-July, I hope to see morning glories blooming up the sides of the arbor and zinnias framing it on either side. But, if that’'s gonna happen, I better get busy now. 

* BTW, there are many, many yards of the hunting fabric just in case you're looking to redecorate a mancave for Father's Day.

And speaking of fabric, the winner of the turquoise floral print is Michelle, who doesn't have a blog.

And finally, thank you for your kind thoughts about the passing of my father. The support of the blogging community never fails to amaze me.

 

 

Dad

My dad and me, with my daughters, Grace and Emily.

On May 3, after a 14-month fight against lung cancer, my father passed away. He was 74.

For as long as I can remember he called me his "little girl with the curl in the middle of her back head." I never knew where that phrase came from, so I Googled it. It's a nursery rhyme, except it's the "little girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead." Which is so like my dad. He knew how to turn a phrase and make it his own, and he was always goofy around little kids.

He taught me how to drive a car, which was not easy, considering he was dealing with a bawling 16-year-old who kept stalling out a Dodge Dart that had the stick shift on the steering column.

He also taught me to work hard, that nothing worthwhile ever comes easy and that you shouldn't quit one job until you have another one. Many times he told my sister and I, when we tried to rush through washing the dishes after supper, that "haste makes waste." Yes, we groaned at that one. Still do.

He was a salesman, so his "office" was the trunk of his car. I remember him doing paperwork at night, sitting at the kitchen table, using what I thought was the coolest colored pencil. It was blue on one end and red on the other. I wish I had one of those pencils now.

He took me to Cincinnati Reds'’ games and we sat way up in the nosebleed seats.

He and my mom were brave enough to drive four kids under the age of 10, from Ohio to Cape Cod on vacation. I'm sure that we must have asked if we were there yet at least 1,000 times.

He brought home pepperoni pizza every Friday night.

He never failed to tell me that he loved me every time I talked with him, or to tell me how proud he was of my daughters, who are two of his 11 grandchildren.

The loves of his life were his family and the game of golf. At his calling hours, I met many of the guys that he played with for more than 40 years. It was nice to know that he had so many buddies.

He was a fighter to the very end. A few weeks before he passed, he talked about getting his strength back to be able to golf again. I hope now that he's hitting every tee shot long and straight and that he's sinking his putts.

Dad, I love you and I miss you.

Vintage Fabric Jackpot

If you happen to find a big box of vintage fabric by the side of the road, then be prepared to do a whole lot of washing and ironing. You might even wash, as I did, eight loads of fabrics, followed by three hours of ironing.

But your time will be time well spent.

Because when you stand back to admire all the neat little piles of fabrics that now cover your kitchen table, you can only smile, knowing that you rescued it from the dump and maybe better yet, it was all free. And then, you'll have a happy debate about which ones are your favorites.

Could it be the blues?

Which include just about the cutest bluebird print that you've ever seen?

Or the pinks? Love that poodle print.

Or maybe the Mid-Century prints in all their graphic glory?

But then there are also those cowboy curtain prints.

And those groovy 1960s terry cloth patterns.

And of course the feedsacks. The three patterns above are complete sacks and there's more than one of each of them. There are three of the pink floral print in the middle and two each of the brown and aqua print on the left and the red, yellow and green square print on the right.

And there are also scraps of several other feedsack patterns that are just perfect for quilting.

Why there are even a few actual feedsacks.

And that, my friends, is just about half of the fabric that I brought home during week four of Spring Cleanup. If you see something that you like, feel free to ask how much yardage there is. Some of the pieces are large, but most are scraps of varying sizes and shapes. Most of it will eventually end up in my Etsy shop.

And speaking of fabric, there's still time to enter this week's giveway, which is 2 yards of this fabric. I also have a much larger piece of this print, about 9 yards, that will go in the shop soon. To win the 2-yard piece, leave a comment in the previous post before midnight Friday.