Beginnings

Ahhh . . . innocence!

Opening my first antiques shop in south Florida was a dream come true.

 I loved to hunt . . .  and gather pieces of history, and bring them together to tell a story.

 I wanted to immerse myself in the beautiful timeworn patina of the past.

I wanted to present these delightful treasures to others who would love them as much as I did!  

I wanted to open a charming place where people could come and relish a bit of their time, away from the hustle and bustle of the ordinary.

My little dream came true.

There is something to be said for barging blindly into the business world with absolutely no idea of what you're doing . . . 

(When I say I made it through by the

 Grace of God,

picture a kitten deciding to cross the interstate at rush hour.)

Folks who are savvy, educated, experienced 

and certainly better capitalized than I was

 have failed to succeed.  

Stats will tell you 67% - 75% of small businesses fail within 3 years of opening.

I believe it was meant to be.

Enthusiasm and passion and loving what you do can seemingly create an energy of their own.

I signed a lease and decorated my shop and ordered business cards and designed window displays and placed ads in the local shopper newspapers and opened my doors.

My little shop was in a busy strip center at a major intersection of Fort Lauderdale.

It was unique at the time - there were no other shops

 specializing in 'primitives' anywhere in the area.

It was across the street from the brand new Broward Mall

which was the largest grossing mall in the country within 2 years of opening.

I was discovered by the "going to lunch and shopping for the afternoon ladies".

They told their friends.

Soon

my little shop was a phenomenon.

My accountant asked questions.

"How have you done this?" he asked?

I shrugged . . ." I guess I don't know" I answered.

"If you can figure it out and tell me, we will bottle it and make a fortune!" he said.

And through all these forty years

 I have studied and noted . . .  recorded and graphed . . .  strategized and experimented.

Forty years of small, retail business have taught me that there are key elements that are necessary
in building a successful venture.

Those elements, (call them rules), are universal and work for retailers anywhere.
They are simple to understand and critical to implement.


There is more to come . . .
at
Antiques By Joy

Memorial Day Thanksgiving

Happy Memorial Day!

Thoughts of my country and freedom crowd my head this weekend

and

I am thankful to those brave and dedicated men and women

who

have given their time

and hearts

and

in many cases,

their very lives

to insure that 

I

can live in a free and safe country.

So,

as we go about our weekend

and

enjoy our picnics and parties and bar b ques,

let us take a moment or two 

to 

remember.

THANK YOU

and

 GOD BLESS YOU

to each of those who have served us and protected us and died for us

and for our freedoms.

They took the high road

and

did not stop until their job was done.

My heart is so very thankful that we live in

the land of the free,

because of the brave!

FOLK Magazine

There are few products I endorse in my blog,

 but this morning I want to mention a new magazine I've subscribed to,

 called

 FOLK

I just received my initial copy and am fascinated by how lovely it is.

It's filled with real people,

sharing

real stories

about real life.

I found myself identifying with the stories and musing about conversing with the writers.

(A sure sign of a good writer/editor is the ability to engage the reader in this fashion.)

Content, photography, advertisement,

every detail is delightful!

Subscription price is very reasonable.

With a cup of cocoa and some cinnamon toast it made my snowy Sunday afternoon perfect.

Living the Good Life!

Sample them online at

www.magazinebyfolk.com

Joy

Ending 2012 in Faith

Finishing up 2012 today with 

paperwork

filing

organizing

and reflecting about how I can improve and grow 

in

 2013

There's always a sense of starting fresh and doing a better job in the new year.

It's human nature to believe we will grow and improve

and become better with age and wisdom

If

 2013

brings personal challenges

(and you know it will)

I'd like to think I'm more prepared to handle them with a modicum of grace

less panic

less stress

less fear

more assurance

that in the end, all things will work out as they are meant to.

Sunday

in church service

my pastor spoke of the storm the disciples faced in their boat on the Sea of Galilee.

You know

the one that was raging

 while 

Jesus

was

 asleep

in the boat.

He spoke of storms that we're meant to ride out, 

because those trials test our faith

and bring us growth, endurance, maturity

and

greater faith

I've experienced

 many

 of the

 challenges 

life can throw at a person

and struggled through a fair number of trials

and

have come to believe 

that

God

is here

He's participating in it all

very close at hand

watching and guaging and coaching

and

hedging me about

and

providing and comforting

and

delivering

and

tenderly

discerning

what 

I

will

face

I'm thankful for the trials I have missed

due to His action of moving me out of the way.

Some folks have faced things much harder and more profound, 

and not because they deserve any tougher trials that I do.

I'm just

saying

I'm thankful

in

hindsight

for those 

He has allowed me to walk through

and

survive.

They grow us up

and

change us

and

sand off some 

rough edges

but

most importantly

they 

have taught me

that

nothing

is

uncontrolled

when we are relying on His grace and asking for 

His

guidance 

and 

direction.

My

 faith

 continues to grow

and

2013

will will be a year of growth

Pieces of The Past

I've been feeling

 ambitious

and

thinking 

about

spring

cleaning.

The season

is 

inspiring me 

to

pull out some of the beautiful

olde items I've been

hoarding

in my little workroom.

I have tiny treasures tucked away 

inside 

antique

leather

suitcases

and 

English crocks

and

lovey old jars

and

timeworn

wooden boxes.

I love to re-examine

these special

little

pieces of

olde

gently aged

mellow

handcrafted

in a simpler time.

And just

delight 

in the

fact

that they have been

preserved

and 

cared for

and

treasured

for another generation.

These pieces 

of

the 

past

fashioned of 

necessity

for a practical purpose

in

an age

when 

nearly 

everything

needed to be practical

are now 

appreciated

simply because they are

lovely.

July Fourth Celebration

Happy
 Fourth of July

Weekend

My birthday is July 6th.

When I was little, my mother would promise that we would have 

FIREWORKS

for my birthday!

I truly thought those fireworks were in my honor!

I don't know how many years she got away with that . . . 

OK, so I was a little naive

and truly,

did I care???

There were millions of people in the park, and they were all celebrating 

ME

I was thrilled and delighted!

The fireworks were so big and bright and beautiful

and I was so happy!

We'd take a blanket and lie back and stare up at the sky . . . 

We packed a picnic basket of treats

and there were Popsicles

and lemonade
and peanuts in the shells

and patriotic music

life was very, very good!

July 4th was the "kickoff" to my birthday . . .
the before party
party!

What a way to enjoy being a kid!

Happy Fourth!

The Artist in Our Soul Part 1

I imagine every person is something of an artist in their own right.
 Whether one paints or bakes, sings or dances, writes poetry or prose,
is a sculptor or dressmaker,
a
beautician or a bridge builder,
we use our particular abilities to express ourselves to the world.

 I spent many years in my young life determining where I would make my mark -
would I become a writer, a public speaker, an astronaut or a stewardess?

My mother taught me to read when I was four.
 I was voracious, devouring anything and everything I could.  When I started school I discovered the Encyclopedia Britannica, and was immediately fascinated with the
American Presidents and First Ladies.
My mother always told me I could be anything I wanted to be
 when I grew up,
and I wanted to be the
 President.

I asked questions . . .
At a tender age I perceived that the President of our country had people who told him
what he could and couldn't do.

I began to consider Queen, instead.

The Queen seemed to have so much more power, and fewer people who bossed her around.
I asked my mother how one went about becoming Queen.
I learned, to my dismay, that you needed to be born into a royal lineage, or to marry into one. . .


. . . this was more complicated than I had initially thought,
but, by the time I was about six, I was set upon finding a prince to marry.
The prince I could find the most written about was Prince Charles of England.
I was not impressed . . .

There was no limit to my imagination, and I was delighted to read everything I could find
about royalty, throughout my elementary school years.
I eventually decided the potential for meeting a suitable prince was limited, so I moved on to other
 professional possibilities.
(truthfully . . . I'm still watching, just in case . . . )

I explored areas . . . specifically those where my personal skills and wishes might be executed
without someone telling me I had to conform to rules.
I determined this profession would need to be in circles where no rules existed.
My mother assured me that rules existed in all areas of life, but wished me luck in my pursuit, and encouraged me to become anything I desired to be.


Artist!
I was enamored with the potential of being able to create something,
and having no one assert that it was "wrong", or that I couldn't do it my way.
Artists were always right. They expressed their views in their work - and must be accepted for whom they were!

Unfortunately, the art teachers in my elementary years believed in coloring inside the lines.
I was beginning to believe I would need to start my own country.

For the next fifteen years I struggled with my artistry, my self expression, my self realization.
 I married and settled into a new home, and took delight in all aspects of life. . . .
particularly the endeavors of feathering my little nest.

I enjoyed the fact that I could mix paints to achieve the precise shade of wall I wanted.
I decided to paint the four walls of my first living room four ever-so-slightly different shades of the same color, so that daylight moving across them would create a variety of nuances.  Sunrise, mid-day, sunset, evening incandescent light . . . oh, I was in heaven!

I had a huge palette, and could make my world anything I desired!  In the eight years we lived in that home, I painted and repainted and painted again . . . so thrilled to be able to change the mood and ambiance.  I explored the differences in seasonal light, and discovered the variety to be had from cool or warm or full spectrum light bulbs!

Mirrors were magic!  I could reflect and enhance the view, add depth to a room . . .
the possibilities were endless!
I wall papered over the painted walls.
I stripped wallpaper and textured the walls with plaster.
OOH LA LA!
I was queen of my own little country.

To be continued in the next post . . .

February

Hello Friends,

This has been a week spent in labors of various sorts, and today I'm relaxing and day dreaming. I'm sitting with notebook and pencil, sketching new displays for the shop, and jotting notes about random ideas that are floating through my head. I'm having my glass of lemon water in an antique, etched glass, and my cheese and crackers on vintage Staffordshire china.

I've come across several beautiful old pieces of homespun and toweling and am debating whether I will sell them as they are, incorporate them into some collage, or simply keep them here at home to enjoy for a while. There are beautiful ways to display linens - draped over a curtain rod at my window, pinned to the wall, laid across a table, or folded in stacks in an open cupboard. They're so clean and crisp, no doubt some woman of earlier times kept them 'for best' as my great grandmother used to say. That meant they were probably never used, but lovingly tucked into a cedar chest or linen press, awaiting that day when she wished to impress someone. (Who could be that special???? Perhaps they were awaiting the visit of a mother in law, or, the pastor and his wife.)

My father's mother was like that. Her children purchased new furniture for her and my grandfather, as a 60th wedding present. The heavy plastic furniture slipcovers were never removed, for fear the upholstery would become soiled. They were waiting for . . . . what?

I love to use my precious old silver and sheets and baskets and china . . . .

I say, this life may not be the party we hoped for, but lets do our share of dancing Granny!

Summer delights

Such a beautiful time of the year! I have been revelling in the fruits and veggies of summer, savoring each one with delight.

When I was a child, my maternal grandmother, "Mamom", taught me the delights of simple meals which celebrated the advent of the harvests of her garden. Some evenings we feasted on a hearty salad of whatever we picked from the 'salad garden', and some mornings I awoke to the breakfast treat of an enormous homemade biscuit covered with fresh strawberries. There were meals that consisted entirely of freshly picked corn on the cob, and tomatoes plucked right from the vine.

Mamom generally believed that a proper supper consisted of meat and potatoes and several veggies and a salad and all the trimmings. Oh, but these harvest suppers were special . . . . a celebration of whatever was ripe and ready to picked and enjoyed to the fullest.

Our own yard was surrounded by an unusual hedge of cherry bushes. I have never seen anything like these since my childhood, and no one seems to remember where they came from, or what their proper name is! They flowered in the late spring and produced a wild cherry, shaped like a tiny pumpkin. There were three distinct flavors and colors among these cherries -

a purpley-black, an orangey gold, and a dark red, each one temptingly juicy and sweet.

We grew huge avocados . . . . football size, I tell you!

The seed alone in our avocados was larger than an entire California avocado is. People think I exaggerate when I tell of these avocados - but they are incredible.

Our neighbors and friends at church grew oranges and tangerines and lemons and limes . . . . and grandmas on both sides of the family had prolific banana trees in their back yards. It seems now, that I grew up in a veritable Garden of Eden

My father's parents, "Granny" and "Grandaddy", made an annual pilgrimage from where we lived, back to where they grew up, (we're talking deep south, here), each summer, to see their relatives. I eagerly awaited their return from this journey, knowing they carried treasure home with them. The entire back seat of that old car was packed with such wonderful things! There were brown sacks filled with the world's sweetest peaches, and huge heavy burlap bags of pecans. I can taste those peaches, right now!

I miss those grandparents. It makes me want to focus more on what I'm doing with

my own grandchildren. I guess a trip to the Farmer's Market is in order!

Happy summer tasting!

Daily Reminders

Daily Reminders

I was blessed to be born into a family of five generations, all alive and active and filled with love, opinions, ambition and energy. Since the Civil War, the women in this prolific family, in addition to being wives and mothers, have been entrepreneurs. It was natural for me to grow up believing that I could and would be a business owner. It was also natural for me to see objects that were generations old and still cherished, maintained, appreciated and used on a daily basis. We've passed our possessions from one generation to the next, extracting every ounce of use possible from armoirs and mirrors, beds and books, kitchen utensils and piano.

I'm the proud keeper of ironstone china dating to the 1860's, which will be passed on to my daughter someday, with seven generations of family photographs and an odd assortment of other memorabilia.

With these simple belongings will pass the stories of these strong, brave, hardworking women.

Women who survived the War, the Depression, the dust bowl, fires, floods, the death of spouses, the loss of their homes and all trials that came their way.

These simple items of daily life are a touchpoint with these women . . . . a rememberance that if they worked hard enough and believed strongly enough to survive the tough times, that I have genetically programmed into me what it takes to survive what I may face.

The rolling pins, aprons and wedding bands are not the legacy . . . . the strength of character and spirit and ability to pray and laugh and carry on are the true legacy.

The antiques are there to encourage me each day.