it’s fall and i’ve been fall cleaning. kinda like spring cleaning, but i’m a procrastinator and it takes me 6 months to do anything.
and cleaning isn’t very interesting, so i haven’t got anything interesting to post.
(the photos above are me being fall-like heating up apple cider, even though the temps have warmed back to summerlike. if there’s cider in the house, then i’m drinkin’ my fiber, hot temps and all.)
i changed my bed linens from this:
i told you.
yup, i’ve got the recently thrifted vera sheets on the bed (i insisted the maid wash ’em twice due to bed bug fear.)
and my poor little table i worked so hard to refinish last summer? it’s teak and i thought teak was good for outdoor furniture. could withstand the elements. i used it on my porch to house my potted herbs this summer.
turns out it didn’t fair so well in the few torrential downpours we had. i had to resand the entire thing (just a light sanding) to remove rust rings and watermarks and then re-oil. and reglue the underside where some veneer was coming unglued. oops. i’ve got to start taking better care of my little gems i’ve found along the way. in my recent trips to the thrift stores, the pickin’s have been slim. there doesn’t seem to be anything good out there anymore. not sure if it’s cuz i already own everything i could possibly want or what. no, that’s not it – i remember good danish stuff popping up all over the place. now i can’t even find a coffee cup that excites me. or a cocktail glass. not that i need any of that stuff. i don’t. it’s just not there anymore.
but the point is, the table’s lustre and shine have returned and it is back to being an indoor table.
a bottle of prosecco fell off the fridge door and landed squarely on my middle toe and it HURT. and it drew blood and then i walked across my flokati rug and flokati rug hairs got all in it and it was gross. lucky me, i had a bottle of prosecco to ease the pain caused by the bottle of prosecco.
cleaning, sanding, and pain. that about sums up my week.
the dullest post of all time. but i warned you.
i may have jumped the gun on complaining about the cold weather. yes, we had a morning in the 40s and yes, the temps have plummeted during the evenings, but lately the days have been sunny and in the 70s and it’s feeling summery all over again. i’ll take it. no complaints. for now i’m done with that afternoon tea that i don’t even like.
on to thrifting –
what the hell kind of ear syringe turkey baster battery operated lampy light thingies have i got here?
made in italy.
i think vintage.
i’ve never seen them before and that’s why i like ’em.
you twist the bottom and *instant light.* just like a glade air freshener. except light instead of smell.
they’ll come in handy in the event of a power outage. i’ll be able to see myself doing nothing.
hot pink vera sheets:
it’s official. i’m never getting a man with all this pink.
i met up with a former work buddy last night for dinner and drinks and she’s going through her 6th divorce at the moment. not a typo. 6th. maybe i’ll just keep the pink and not worry about a man.
i know i said buying used sheets was giving me the heebie jeebies due to how bedbugs are taking over the world and ruling the universe, but screw it. i took the plunge.
i now have enough sheet sets to change my bed linens every other day – just like oprah – without having to do constant loads of laundry. yup, me and oprah. same sheet schedule. fresh clean crisp sheets every other day.
except i don’t do that.
but i could if i wanted to.
i don’t make the maid work that hard.
how did i go from sweating and barely able to move to downright freezy-cold? i mean, it was SO HOT not long ago and now it is SO NOT. blink of an eye. weather is a mystery.
i drank hot apple cider. it’s TOO EARLY for hot apple cider. i’m not READY to say goodbye to summer. i’m wearing socks. i’m wearing layers. my windows are closed. i’m even drinking tea and i don’t like tea. i just needed something warm the other night. i’ve got the down comforter back on the bed. oh, i don’t like this at all.
speaking of down comforters and all things blanket…
not sure if i like my color combos.
didn’t want anything “babyish.”
why? because i’m anti-baby, of course.
no, of course i’m not anti-baby.
i wanted modern and unisex. it’s a boy baby. so it’s got a boyish slant. no flower fabrics. maybe that’s why i don’t love it.
if this thing eventually comes somewhat close to resembling a quilt, maybe i’ll make one similar with girly vintage fabrics. although why, i don’t know. the last thing i need in the world is a baby girl’s quilt.
the next decision is whether or not to hand quilt.
i saw a beautiful, handstitched vintage quilt at the thrift store the other day. it was so well done. and so well worn. tears all around the edges and throughout the itty bitty patches from several washings and tons of use, i assume. it was $25 and i couldn’t justify buying it. but i did pause and admire the handiwork.
i can only hope my little baby quilt ends up in a thrift store someday, overpriced and torn to pieces, where some random shopper sees it, admires the workmanship and then walks away.
that is my dream.
you herd right.
the deer pillow is done.
and the back:
all vintage fabrics. made the size of a standard bed pillow. i think i’m pretty much all set now for pillows for awhile. like, for the rest of my life.
i’m positively in love with the cover of the september 2010 issue of living, etc. what is it? a vintage modern boho hippie floral granny downtown scandinavian cottage-y relaxed look? whatever it is, it’s the look i’m going for.
of course, we all know that one minor detail that seems to be missing. yup, the house.
ok, well, maybe a job, too. whatever.
i’ve got my eye on this:
can you put a house on a credit card? cuz i’m pretty sure i could do it. forget all that qualifying for a mortgage crap. forget the red tape, the bureaucratic b*s. i’d just like to divvie it up between my amex card, discover, visa, and mastercard, please. and maybe a little on old navy. sure, go ahead, take a down payment from my debit card. whatever you need. c’mon. there’s GOT to be a way for me to get a house. i pay my bills. i’m not part of the problem. i’m one of the good guys. i’ve got cute furniture. i’ve got great artwork. i’ve got swedish light fixtures, for gawd’s sake. lord knows i’ve got pillows. it all needs to go somewhere. and the world needs to see me decorate with all my cute stuff. the world is passing me by and i’m missing out on this wallpaper trend. i need to wallpaper! i want to swear my brains out hanging wallpaper, watch the trend come and go, and then swear some more over what a hassle it is to remove wallpaper. this is what i want. all i want. i just want something to decorate and something to complain about. isn’t that what we all want, really? and maybe a good meal? with some good company every now and again. and a few laughs. maybe a good movie. well, that’s all i want. and i’d like to put in on a credit card.
that last paragraph could be menopause sneaking up on me. what a rant.
i need a life coach. i need a swift kick in the butt. i need to regroup. i need a drink.
i got locked into a hoarders marathon for a good part of my labor day monday.
i had seen commercials for the show, but never full episodes.
fascinating and frightening.
part of me feels like i could be a card-carrying member of the hoarders club.
and part of me is grossed out. c’mon – some of them are just PIGS. the ones who don’t do anything about garbage? i understand collecting. i don’t understand trash piled up to the ceiling.
i need to watch my words. part of me is also thinking, “those in glass houses….”
finished the quoi de neuf pillow from my hoarded vintage fabric collection.
i’m feeling a strong urge to tidy up.
maybe now that the weather isn’t so extreme, i can get some organization going. thank you a&e for that hoarders marathon slap-in-the-face.
if you’re in the mood for a collector’s movie, watch “the art of the steal,” a documentary on who gets control of one man’s (dr. albert c. barnes) $25 billion dollar modern art collection after his death.
the gist of the movie is how dr. barnes’ collection was scoffed at (by peeps in power) way back in the day and how he could hold a grudge once those hater power snobs caught on and realized what he had, all the while being oh-so-generous to the true art lovers, the students and teachers of his barnes foundation. i like his style. another little guy vs. big government.
collectors and hoarders. we all want to believe our stuff is worth money. something tells me i’m no dr. barnes.