BUTTERFLIES...

The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough. 

-Rabindranath Tagore-

 I have had a rather difficult case of the butterflies, I can't seem to settle into anything.  I am like a butterfly trying to choose from a patch of vivid garden flowers fluttering from this one to that one and never being able to choose where to light and linger for long.

I have no idea where today's journey will take me as I wing my way through time and space nor do I know where I will linger.  I am just popping in to say "hello" and wish you a beauty filled Monday.  I leave you with some pretty thoughts and fluttering beauties that I observed in my aunts flower garden...

May the wings of the butterfly kiss the sun
And find your shoulder to light on,
To bring you luck, happiness and riches
Today, tomorrow and beyond.

-Irish Blessing-

 Butterflies are self propelled flowers.  

-R.H. Heinlein-

 Beautiful and graceful, varied and enchanting, small but approachable, butterflies lead you to the sunny side of life.  And everyone deserves a little sunshine.  

-Jeffrey Glassberg-

 "Just living is not enough," said the butterfly, "one must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower."  

-Hans Christian Anderson-

 The green grass and the happy skies
court the fluttering butterflies.  

-Terri Guillemets-

 The butterfly was young

Her vibrant wings of delicate lace
Such grace such poise
A charming butterfly 

 -Bella Ravenstar-

 Flowers and butterflies drift in color, illuminating spring.  

 -Author Unknown-

 Go on, hitch a ride on the back of a butterfly.  There's no better way to fly.

 -Pat Monahan, Scott Michael Underwood, and James W. Stafford, "Get To Me" 

 Have a wonderful day sweet friends!

 

IF THESE CHARIS COULD TALK...

I love old.

 I love furniture.  

 I love old furniture.  

 I love restoring old furniture with a new twist.

 I love old interesting furniture that looks like it could speak, telling tales of days gone by, of time periods and peoples lives, the things it seen and heard, spilling the secrets it has quietly kept while sitting silently and stoically listening.  While it may seem indifferent or unaffected by joy, grief, pleasure, or pain, it absorbs them.  You can see it in the scar, scratch, or dent here.  You can feel it in the well worn or sagging place there.  You can view it through its aged bend, bow, chip, or crack.  You can touch it whether rough, smooth, crackled, or tattered.  You can sense its rich life and history by just being near it.

Everyday pieces are my favorites, not rich antiques from across the ocean, yes, I admit it, I am a commoner.  The pieces that interest me are items the everyday working class man would have used in the past.  I am not particular about period or style, a piece just has to speak to me.  I have to sense its story.  And if its story just happens to connect to mine then all the better.

The chairs in this post are just such chairs, we share a history.  If these chairs could talk they would tell you a story of living in a tiny three roomed house with electricity, no running water, where the heat source was a pot belly stove in a tiny living room, all meals were prepared on a wood burning stove, and the wash was done outside over an open fire, line hung to dry.  They would tell you of a happy family who never knew they were poor for there was always food on the table, clothing on the back, shelter over head, and lots of love and laughter.

They would tell you about joy, grief, pleasure, and pain.  They would tell you about jolly holidays and everyday goings on.  They would tell you about a little girl perching on them eating her jelly toast and fresh from the cow milk on warm summer mornings.  They would tell you after dinner stories when bellies were full of fresh garden fare as the patriarch uncle would rare back in one of them and regale the table with wonderful tales that always ended in side splitting laughter.  They would tell you womenfolk's secrets they heard whispered over steaming cups of coffee.  They would tell you about the silence that suddenly surrounded them they day the family moved away from the old house and they were left behind.

They would tell you of their rescue in their rusty and rotting state, how they moved from the farm and the remains of the old house to rest in the loft of the barn of the little girl who sat on them and ate her jelly toast on warm summer mornings.  They were resting after so many years of service, over twenty years they reposed and listened to the rustle of farm animals below, then to the sound of things being built when the barn was converted into a workshop.  One day they saw the little girl all grown up clamber up the loft stairs and come in their direction.  Each one was lovingly lifted down the stairs to be restored and given new life.

If these chairs could talk they would tell you how wonderful a good scrubbing felt after so many decades.  They would tell you what the tickle of primer and paint feels like as it brushed their legs.  They would tell you how solid and firm their new wood is.  They would tell you what it is like to be padded in cushy foam and swaddled in batting.  They would tell you it amuses them to now be clothed in vintage feed and flour sacks.  They would tell you of moving back to the farm, not to their former residence for it has long ago perished, but to the newer farm house where new stories are bring absorbed and mingled with those of the past.  They would tell you of a refurbished life where old is sacred and cherished.

I love old.

I love furniture.

I love old furniture.

I love restoring old furniture with a new twist.

And if its past and mine just happen to connect then all the better.

This week I am linking to Debra's Vintage Inspiration Friday.

I hope each of you have a wonderful weekend!

Blessings,

Sandy

P.S.  I know some of you are wondering if I will ever get back into my studio and share some new art.  The answer to that is YES I will!  I have a few DIY projects I am juggling right now and I need to get those off my plate before I can play artist again.  See you in the studio soon!   

MEMORIES IN THE BARGAIN...

 Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.

-From the television show The Wonder Years-

Bright and early on a Saturday morning Handy Hubby and I set off from the farm jouncing along the dry dusty dirt and stone road admiring the bright red barns against the cloudless vivid blue sky.  Heat waves shimmered off the tin roofs.  Big round bales of hay dotted the fields in perfect evenly spaced rows like soldiers standing at attention in formation.  Here and there cattle clustered under the shade of the occasional tree or bobbed around in algae laden ponds.  We were in search of treasures and trinkets for our little farmhouse.

Stepping through the door of what was once a thriving hub of the community, an ancient feed store turned bargain paradise, I was immediately catapulted back into the past.  The first thing my eyes fell upon was a folk art shelf depicting a set of squirrels eating nuts.  A memory rose to the surface.  I could hear my grandmothers laughter as she sat at my table watching one very plump greedy squirrel lay sprawled upon a mattress of bird seed in the open bird feeder with the shingled top like it was a canopy bed.  He would lay on his stomach feet sprawled out over the sides as if guarding his bounty.  Every so often one little paw would root around until the desired bed crumb was found and he would quickly flip over sending a shower of bedding to the ground as he lay belly up enjoying his bedtime snack.  This tickled my grandmother to no end.  I bought the shelf...

Next I spied a set of wooden and burlap canisters stacked like a building block tower.  Building...I have always loved to work with wood, even from early childhood when Granny and I would walk from the Old House to the original farm house site, where our little farm house now sits, so I could "build".  Granny would fill her red apron pocket with a handful of nails and I would swing a little ball-peen hammer as Old Mickey, an aged yellow dog of no distinction, trotted along behind us.  I would sift through the lumber of the tumbled down house and find just the right pieces to hammer away on until my hearts content with Granny patiently standing off to the side rocking back and forth from heel to toe, hands clasp behind her back softly humming...

A handmade grapevine wreath conjured up yet another memory.  Every fall just around Thanksgiving the uncles would start out on what they liked to call a hunt but was really a hike because with three whooping kids along any game was scared off.  One year we hiked all the way to the top of Bald Mountain.  The cousins and I, being tired and whining from the long trek, invented a faster way down the mountain.  We took running leaps into the almost waist high leaves and slid tumbling down the steep slope.  

Going too fast I grabbed a hanging wild grapevine to break my speed but a wondrous thing happened.  When the vine reached its ability to stretch any further and break my speed it swung me out landing me in a tumbling giggling heap.  After that the cousins and I aimed at loose vines sliding, swinging, and tumbling our way down the mountainside.  How we did not get hurt and what the uncles were thinking for letting us do it is beyond me.  Our mothers were not happy with the bedraggled appearance of their children in stained clothing and windy tales of how they got off Bald Mountain...  

 A row of burlap potato sacks hung along one wall of the old feed store.  I touched their texture and admired their graphics.  The course burlap between my fingers and the imagery of the potatoes put me in a sun drenched field just up past the ancient log barn.  The cousins and I stood baking in the sun at the edge of a potato patch.  Uncle Charlie had his old mule, Jack, hooked up to the plow and he was turning the rows of potatoes.  Each of us held a tow sack and an old fork, our bare feet buried and relishing the cool of the fresh turned dirt as our toes wriggled to the surface like fishing worms.  As soon as the first three rows were turned and the sound of Uncle Charlie driving Jack to " gees" and " haws" quieted we knew the race was going to begin.  

The first three rows always belonged to the cousins and I, whoever filled their tow sack first got a dollar.  Whoever finished their row first got an ice cream soda down at Baker's Drugs.  Burlap sack in one hand, fork in the other, we readied for the signal, Uncle Charlie lifted his cap high over his head and flagged the start.  Intense competition ensued as we snatched the freshly turned potatoes and tossed them into our tow sacks.  Forks scratched out partial buried potatoes and dirt clods flew.  Charlie and Jack continued to plow as adults entered their own race, to get the crop in, while we kids were occupied and out from under foot.  It never mattered who won in the end because we all knew there was a dip in Long Creek or a deep swim at Tyler Bend with a picnic at the end of the race...

 

A spice rack hung near the door with its little glass bottles winking a spicy memory at me.  We were in the old house near Christmas time.  The pot belly stove was doing its job of keeping us warm and cozy.  I had Granny all to myself, a rarity, when I asked her if we could have a tea party.  We had baked some sugar cookies on the old wood burning stove that morning and the little house smelled like vanilla and heaven.  Granny filled the cast iron kettle with water and used the iron spoon to lift the hot cover from the pot belly stove fitting the kettle into the covers place.  She then opened the little door on the front of the stove and poked at the coals coaxing them into a flame... 

Back into the tiny kitchen she pulled down tins of spices and can of loose tea.  She spooned out some loose tea leaves and sprinkled savory spices onto a snippet of muslin, gathering it up into a bag and tying it with twine.  Returning to the living room she opened the kettle lid and placed the bag inside, catching the twine edge in the lid.  We sat on the sofa our feet on the silver side rails warming our toes as she told me a story and the kettle steamed and boiled, the scent of sweet spices and love filling the air.  We drank the warm tea with a spoon full of home grown honey and there was never anything sweeter, the tea and the memory.

We wrapped up our trip the bargain barn with a fun find for Handy Hubby...

At our next stop we found super cheap old sewing machine table that will be revamped into a small computer desk for the farm, we have already started to dismantle it...

I found a cool coat rack for the utility room...

And a vintage vanity mirror, much needed, since there is only one bathroom and we found out the last time we were all there as a family that the ladies of the family take up way too much bathroom time.  I am setting up a primping area in one of the bedrooms to free up the bathroom...

 

The second best bargain of the day?  An old nail barrel I found out in the back shed at the farm, free!  Handy Hubby has already fixed a new top for it that I am going to paint a checkerboard on.  We have plans to make checkers and use it on the porch as a side/game/storage table.  We are going to keep the horseshoe set and bad mitten rackets and birdies in there...

I strolled away with more than a few treasures and trinkets for the farm that day.  Hands down the best bargain of the day was the stroll down memory lane that made these simple finds even sweeter.  

 Thank you for dropping in to visit and for sharing a stroll and a memory with me.  

I hope you all enjoy a wonderful week this week!

   

LAMP REVAMP, TABLE TRANSFORMATION, AND A SOFA SNEAK PEEK...

Every chance I have gotten over the last few weeks I have been scoping out flea market finds to furnish and decorate the farmhouse.  I am taking my time with the over all finished effect from room to room but some basic furniture needs were must purchases.  Now that the sofa situation has been settled, I am still on the hunt for side chairs, I set my sights on some end tables and lamps for the living room and bed side lamps for the master bedroom.

I know this is going to sound beyond ridiculous but I did not want to spend a fortune on furniture or lamps and I wished that I could find them all for less than $40.00.  I do so love a good challenge and a girl can wish can't she?  At my first stop I spied these tables...

A little retro-vintage, solid wood, exceptionally sturdy, nice metal detail, even liked that they were black, perhaps with a little alteration they would do nicely, $24.00 for the pair.  Consulted Handy Hubby about the transformation he said it was doable so I loaded them up.

I sailed up one side of the highway and back down again in search of lamps.  I felt like I was in a retro Armor hot dog commercial only for lamps, remember the jingle?   Lamps, I want lamps, what kind of lamps have I seen?  Fat ones, skinny ones, lamps that offer shocks, tall ones, mini ones, even ones with polka dots!  Lamps!  I want lamps, lamps that look just right!  I was hot, tired, thirsty, and ready to call it a day when I was about to pass a place I rarely frequent because I never find anything in there but as one last ditch effort thought I would try anyway. And that is when I met my new bed side lamps...

 They had to convince me to take them home.  Bless their little hearts they were looking a little bordello with all that flashy black and brass business and all those tassels! Not at all boudoir chic.  They twinkled their tag at me and I was convinced, $6.95 for the pair, sold...but no shades.

Back tracking a little I returned to a previous shop where I had seen two brand new still in the plastic ivory burlap covered shades,  $3.29 each, just the right size and fit for my lamp revamp.

Feeling like I was done in for the day I headed for the grocery store and decided not to leave a stone unturned and popped into a neighboring thrift shop.  There I found two little pottery lamps with shades in perfect colors for the living room.  You are never going to believe me but in all honesty and sincerity, they were $1.00 each!  I almost tripped over myself to get them to the checkout counter before the magic price disappeared, surely it was a mistake, but no, it was real!

I came in under my wishing budget at $39.53!  I still need one more lamp, what do you think the chances are of finding one for only .77 cents?  And what did I do with these items?

For the lamp revamp I cleaned all the lamps thoroughly and checked the wiring and sockets to make sure they did not need to be replaced.  (Always do this with a used lamp you don't want old wire that is not up to code or a fire hazard.)  I cleaned the shades for the small lamps and unwrapped the burlap ones.  The pottery lamps were good to use after a simple shine, those other gals...not so much.

First they had to have surgery, a tassel-ectomy...

Then they had to be cleaned and primed...

The finals steps were to give them a fresh coat of soft dove gray paint in a high gloss finish...

Topping them with their new ivory burlap shades ...

Now if I just had night tables to sit them on but that is a post for another day!

For the table transformation I removed the front legs and the hardware, marked the table where I wanted it cut off and turned the cutting on the table saw over to Handy Hubby.  I removed the front skirt of the sawed off piece of table and reattached it to the front, reinstalled the leg hardware and put the legs back on.  After a little filling, sanding, taping off of the metal accents, priming, and painting later I had two small accent tables in perfect scale for the tiny farmhouse living room. (Did I ever mention that I working with a room that is 17 feet long and 12 feet wide?)  I have one more thing to add to these tables and they will be complete but that too will be a post for another day.

Here they are with the pottery lamps ready to go into the room.  I added some super cheap flea market books to give the lamps added height...

I shared in a recent post about the great sofa switch and I thought you might want to see what they actually look like.  We went up to the farm for the weekend and I snapped a pic of each one.  Here is the hand-me-up sofa from my son and daughter-in-law...

The legs make it really look modern and while I like them, they are don't really say farmhouse, so I am thinking this one might get a little sassy burlap skirt, not sure yet.

This is the estate sale find...

Cute with clean lines and the corded fabric is so soft and comfy, definitely says farmhouse.  Don't you just dig my 70's style paneling and vinyl flooring?  Trust me, those will go as soon as time and budget allow!  In case you are wondering no sewing got done on the new pillows this weekend, Handy Hubby and I spent our time junkin', visiting family, and relaxing.
  I'll share our cool finds next post.

Thanks for dropping in to visit and I hope you have a great week!