Smelling the Flowers

There is something that has spoken to my heart this week

about stopping to smell the flowers along the way

in 

my journey.

Perhaps it's age

or just a little nudge

from 

God,

to take a little time out

from toil

and 

relax

and

enjoy a nap

and

the snow

and

family

and

friends.

There are a lot of lessons 

to

learn

while on this

earth,

and 

appreciation for

the beauty

all

around me

is 

one I learned

a

long 

time

ago.

To stop and be kind

was another

one.

Sometimes 

I 

need

a

reminder.

The chores will get done . . . 

or not . . . 

and

when I'm too old

to be able to walk

outside at will,

or drive to the mountains

for a random picnic,

or visit my friends,

I'd like to be able to say,

"I spent time enjoying those pleasures

whenever I could,

and 

I am glad!"

So, pick up pretty seashells
and interesting rocks
and bird feathers
and lovely leaves,

and hold your
babies
 on
 your
 lap,

and
eat all the freshly baked cookies you're offered.

Stroll through the grass
barefoot in the spring,


and make snowmen
and
 enjoy hot chocolate
 with whipped cream
when it's cold outside.

It's
good
to take time
to
smell
the flowers
along
the
way.

Singing My Song

So . . . 

I was travelling cross country on a buying trip recently,

and searching for some exciting old items that would

energize my customers when they came into the shop.

There's not a lot "new" in the antiques world . . .

(no pun intended)

but our remix of items every few years seems to keep things fresh and happening.

The decorating/antiques/home furnishing biz 

is regularly shaken up and infused with a new perspective from time to time, 

causing us all to have a desire to redecorate or re-theme our homes.

When I began in the 70's we were making our urban and suburban homes mindful of the

 wholesome, self-sustaining world of

 country living.  

We loved the look of a wooden bowl, a rolling pin, an oil lamp, a butter churn . . .

these were the tools we were drawn to 

as we honored our grandparents' pure, simple, lifestyles. 

They bespoke a work ethic born of necessity . . . 

a "get the job done with what you have"

ability.

The timeworn look and soft feel of a handcarved clothespin can still turn my head!

By the eighties, I was searching for a fresher, newer look in my shop.

I edged away from the natural oak and maple woods,

and utilitarian kitchen tools,

and 

leaned toward crisp white Victorian linens,

white ironstone,

blue and white hand thrown pottery from local mountain potters,

herbs, 

handwoven oak splint Appalachian baskets,

and what I referred to as 

"naturals"

birds nests, feathers, shells, river rocks, branches in vases . . .

There was a beauty to adding nature to the one of a kind, 

hand thrown jug or hand turned wooden bowl.

I decorated my home with old, scrubbed, Irish pine furniture 

(although no one else seemed to be buying it),

it was plentiful because it hadn't found favor with American buyers yet.

There was an essence of the simple and thoughtful accumulation of meaningful items.

Old World pine, (servants' furniture), was reminiscent of my heritage.

My favorite rugs were creamy white rag rugs made in the south of the scraps the factory workers collected from behind cotton mills.

My perception was that this recycling/upcycling of what was otherwise headed for destruction

was a smart idea.

It was what ingenious and thrifty pioneers had been doing throughout history,

and,

these scraps created a cottage industry for families 

who otherwise would have 

been hungry.

I was usually several steps outside the norm,

(read "odd" )

in my style. . . 

but these rugs became a mainstay in my business at that time.

The nineties brought my excitement with old metal bins and wire baskets

 and factory tables . . .

again,

not immediately of interest to most of my customers,

who simply didn't get it.

I had started swathing my furniture in linen and muslin,

 and cheesecloth made awesome

(cheap) curtains, when I bothered to have curtains.

I was happier draping an ancient tatted-edged table runner over a tree branch

and tucking it above a window for softness

than actually curtaining off the view.

By 2001, I was selling down in Texas at the Round Top Antiques Fair.

I was in the process of collecting furniture and architectural pieces with old white peely paint,

but I just didn't know where to find enough of it to supply the wonderful customers I was selling to.

I began collecting this genre because no one else wanted it, and it was practically free.

"Good" surfaces were expensive and in demand,

and I wasn't able to compete in that market.

So, I began painting reject and hand me down furniture

 white,

then sanding it back to look like it had been around forever.

A furniture craftsman shared that he "aged" surfaces by strapping the painted piece to the top of his car, and running it through the car wash repeatedly, until the desired patina was achieved.

My grandmother was dismayed, 

she was busy stripping paint 

off

old pieces,

liberating the original, beautiful wood

while I was busy slathering paint

 on . . .

but, each to her own.

I was set up at Round Top one spring

 when who should appear in my booth but that well known guru,

Rachael Ashwell, newly of Shabby Chic fame.

She quietly pointed to several pieces of my furniture,

smiled at me, and went on.

Her one assistant wrote a check, and the other loaded up the furniture and carted it off.

(I will probably take that to my grave as one of the highlights of my life.)

OK - Sandra Bullock also purchased an item from me,

 but it's not polite to brag!

Deep inside I have a hunger

 to continue the quest for the next fresh look.

No one knows what will rock our worlds,

but by turns we have evolved through

country, shabby chic, retro, Tuscan, 'frenchy', 

industrial and urban chic.

I'm still travelling

still searching

still longing 

for the sweet, fresh, happy look.

Still singing my song! 

From My Heart

Looking back over the past year

I have to tell you how blessed we've been at

PATINA

in so many ways!

Our customers and friends are incredible

they're our best advertisement,

bringing their friends

and

family members

and their out of town guests

to the shop.

I can't tell you how many
"once a year",
"out of town"
 guests

stopped to shop

while they were visiting family and friends

for the holiday.

(Many on their way in from the airport,

with the comment that

 PATINA 

was the first stop they had to make!)

This sort of affection and excitement

warms out hearts.

It builds business in a solid fashion

and

keeps us 

in a  position to continue

seeking and providing

a treasure trove of fresh items for the shop.

There is no finer compliment than being recommended

by someone who has enjoyed our ambiance

 atmosphere and design sensibility.

Many of our "regulars"

have brought a dozen friends to us through the years!

This encouragement is what keeps us going,

spending countless hours

and back breaking work,

in rain, heat, mosquitoes, mud, ice and snow,

picking,

all across the country 

through thousands of worthless objects

in order to find those few

special items

that spark sweet, warm memories

and

get you excited!

You

are why we do it!

Thank you,

from the bottom of my heart!

Almost New Year

It's almost the

 New Year

and

time for resolutions . . .

I think I'll make one or two.

First,

let me assure you

I'm not going to make one to exercise more

or totally reorganize my house

or to do any of those wonderful things we

will only chastise ourselves for 

forgetting by February.

No guilt.

No tough requisites.

Just want to be a kinder, 

more thoughtful

and 

generous person

in 2012.

A little more apt to not make comments while driving,

or

be annoyed by someone racing to take a parking spot,

or

irritated by many little things.

I'm blessed and content,

 and happy to be here in America,

and 

wish to smile more

and

be a blessing to other people 

more

 frequently.

What's your resolution?

Thanks for reading along this year - it's been fun!

Christmas Spirit

I was lying in bed early this morning, stretching,

 and relishing the fact that I had plenty of time to simply lie there

 and

enjoy the warm coziness

for a change

and my thoughts ran to Christmas.

Now, generally, when my thoughts run to any upcoming event

I'm barraged by my mental

"to-do" list

and have a rush of panic at 

how much there is still to be accomplished.

There is the accompanying guilt

of 

"why didn't you start earlier",

and the feeling of being slightly overwhelmed

followed by the big

"why am I perpetually in this cycle"

etc.

For many,

Christmas can be a big guilt inducer . . . 

when you consider that bloggers all around the world are bombarding

us with the beautiful gifts and decorations they've made from scratch

and the stories of how they're helping to save the world

by 

living the ultimate

"green lifestyle"

and how all their gifts are made from

100% recycled trash

thereby saving the planet

while stunning their friends and families with their

 ingenuity 

creativity

and 

time management.

But this morning I simply shooed away that demon

and 

thought about the Christmas memories

that stood out from my 

childhood.

I recalled fragrances:

real evergreens 

cookies baking

spices

hot apple cider with cinnamon sticks

clove studded orange pomanders

popcorn being strung

ham baking

ripe pears

nuts toasting

hot waffles

I recalled being surrounded by family . . . 

(there were five generations of family when I was small).

Grands and great grands and great great grands!

There were aunts and uncles and greats to boot.

There was a plethora of cousins,

and neighborhood friends took up where the cousins left off.

There were Christmas trees - 

one in each home

of all these relatives and neighbors,

and the grandaddy Christmas tree of them all:

the tree in our little church.

I believe it must have been 25 foot high,

(but then I'm sure it only seemed that way).

Lights and ornaments were unique on each tree, 

so every one was a small miracle

and delight!

Our neighbor had a molded, white plastic tree

whose branches looked somewhat like combs . . . 

the most wonderful and "modern" tree . . .

it was always decorated in a single color,

and I seem to remember one year especially

when the tree was all in blue!

Ahhhh . . . 

so much more sophisticated than our hodge-podge family tree,

brimming with the handmade ornaments and paper chains

and the eggshell collages my mother lovingly crafted!

We had some family heirloom ornaments

and the precious ones my mother made

and the 

school paste and macaroni and glitter ones,

and out tree was breathtaking!

We literally held our breath while the light cord was plugged in.

The final touch was my mother painstakingly adding the silvery tinsel . . . 

one single strand at a time

in perfect symmetry.

I remember my mother using specific gift wrap for the gifts from family

and then, secretly, after we children were asleep, 

wrapping the 

Santa gifts

 in a unique paper - so it would be obvious that he

had brought certain presents

 from his workshop at the North Pole!

When I was old enough to know what was going on,

 I was privileged to stay up late and help her wrap those Santa gifts

for my younger siblings.

My first role was to lend my finger to hold the knot securely in the ribbon while she tied a bow.

We finished special baking details, and sometimes prepared the turkey stuffing.

I was a entrusted with tearing bread into cubes and crumbling cornbread.

It was a right of passage I'll always treasure!

Every year our church had a Christmas pageant.

It was traditionally the story of Jesus' birth

in the manger in Bethlehem.

There were speaking roles and non speaking roles

and members of all ages took parts appropriate to their age, size and ability.

I was often a part of the pageant, 

and loved the rehearsals, the costuming, the music, the lighting

and all the adrenaline rush of the production.

It felt so real, and so holy and I was filled with awe!

Luke's recounting of the nativity event

came alive

and it seemed we were whisked across the world to that very sight

on that

 very important silent night.

I treasure so many wonderful memories

of Christmas!

The best are the feelings of being loved

and the wonder of so many relatives and friends gathered together,

and the abundance of delicious treats on the table,

and 

the wonder of Jesus being born

in the city of Bethlehem,

beneath that shining star!

Continuing The Organizational Quest!

There has been some progress on the organizing front in the little workspace I think of as my studio.

Truth be told,

I must use this niche for creative space,

office space,

and

" hide the piles until the company is gone"

space.

(Oh, you know what I'm talking about . . . 

don't even pretend you dont . . .)

I'm toting out boxes of half finished projects and broken items I told myself I would fix.

I've got bags and boxes of items ready for donation

and a couple of trash bags

as well . . . 

and a rather sizable stack of papers for shredding . . .

Where does this paper originate?

I have called and written and emailed every organization that sends me mail,

demanding to be removed from their mailing lists

and email lists.

(There are limits to what I can endure!)

I have organized and discarded magazines.

I have rearranged some furniture.

I have purged my bulletin board.

I feel so virtuous!

I'm rounding up

 MORE 

vintage jars 

to hold all the little messy bits of office supplies 

and crafty components!

There is such a sense of accomplishment

in such a small change.

Do I hear applause????

Organizing My Life

Well, it's 4 degrees outside my back door this morning, with a high of 10 degrees forecast.

I'm guessing this would be a great day to reorganize my creative space.

I believe I'll tear it part and move some furniture around

and create a more efficient environment.

There should be more walking room in this area

and fewer piles to have to jump over and skirt around.
I'm in here every day,
and
so much seems to pile up.

More defined spaces for my buttons and book pages

and strings and clothespins and all those yummy pieces of life I love to create with.

Hmmmm . . . 

This could take some time . . . 

I believe I'll begin with a cup of coffee.