Free Stuff...One Way Or The Other

'Suppose, my little lady, your doll should break her head.
Could you make it whole by crying til your eyes and nose were red?
And wouldn't it be easier to treat it as a joke,
And say you're glad 'twas dolly's, and
Not your head that broke!'

Remember autograph books? Or am I just really that old?

When I was a kid the autograph book made a brief resurgence
from the 1940's. We had our friends write something cute, clever,
or complimentary in it. I still have mine; the pages haven't yet turned
to dust.
Annyyywwayyy....the little poem at the top here was what my
Aunt Honey wrote in my autograph book when I was 11 or so years old.
For some strange reason I've always remembered this poem and thought of it
several times this week while recovering from the kick in the head I receive
disguised as a home invasion and robbery. First - and last - one ever ...
I'm making sure of that.

Note to Self: It is just stuff. Valuable, some loaded with sentiment and
therefore irreplaceable, but stuff all the same. My house wasn't trashed;
my animals were not hurt; and the message was received loud and clear:
Some People Just Suck And You Have To Protect Yourself From Them.
End of story.

The robbery delayed a post I've been wanting to do about the
transformation of a hunk of junk acquired curbside recently. In the past
few years I have made a conscious effort to unload valuable antique
 furniture and furnish my house with inexpensive items so
 that when I die - (this sounds morbid but it's not, it's just practical)
 - my sons can dispose of my things with ease...
just put it all at the road for a future curbside shopper. Ever the thoughtful
mama...even in death, that's me! Perhaps the robbery of all my gold jewellery
was the Universe's way of helping me toward my goal! If so, thanks a bunch for
sending Lindsay Lohan over to my place to rob me blind. So thoughtful.

My long suffering friend Tom provided the muscle and the truck to get this to
 my place. (Tom feels sure my neighbours think we are dating because he
 is constantly observed carrying cast off crap into my yard).
P.S. We're not dating; Tom is married to a wonderful woman named Mary.

Tom and I painted the cabinet on a very hot and humid day.
 I don't know why he does these things; I would never be friends
 with me. Tom is one of the good guys.

Left the cabinet outside over night to air out and acquire the scent of lavender.

Carried inside and upstairs by Annie and Connor - I have some great friends,
 lemme tell ya - I applied lace panels to the doors and loaded it up with sweaters.

Made some cinnamon-clove, and lavender sachets to tuck amongst the sweaters.
So, if you break into my home to rob me and you get chilly
you'll  know where to find a sweater. You're welcome.

COTTAGE RAG WREATH

On a recent vacation day I sat inside pouting because of the rain....started casting about for something to do, to make, to watch, to eat....and settled on making a rag wreath, rather than pulling a chair up in front of the open refrigerator. Good choice, I know.

Anyway, I pulled out some old table runners and doilies and cut them up into strips. Dismantled a Christmas wreath I had made a while back and tied on the rags. Still thought the wreath needed a little sumpin sumpin so I crocheted some roses and pinned those on, then plopped the whole thing on my front door.

By that time it had stopped raining and I went out to play in the puddles.

Later, Junkers!

Jeannie

Hall Seat

So...it's been ages in dog years since I've posted, but, thanks to kind Connie who posted on my blog and encouraged me to continue, I'm back at it. Thanks, Connie. Sometimes I feel like I'm just talking to myself here, but, when I look at the stats I see there is a lot of traffic to the blog. Oodles of shy people are stopping by to have a look, then split without leaving a comment. And that's fine, I do it too, but when I do get comments it boosts my low self-esteem and makes me happy for a few seconds. And a few seconds are better than no seconds. You married girls know what I'm talking about (hehheh).

Aannnyyywwwaaaayyy....
 A couple of months ago I picked up this old door and wrote about it

Yeah, that pic isn't my best work...   to continue....I didn't know what to do with the old door as it doesn't fit any of the door frames in my Bottle, so I tried to sell it. The only bite I had was from Vancouver; she wanted to know would I ship it to Vancouver. Um...no....I'm not in the mood - in fact I am never in the mood - to wrangle with Canada Post.  I run in the other direction when it comes to dealing with any agency that is overseen by the government. (I'm probably now on some kind of list for saying that ... guess I'll find out at tax return season).

What I finally did is this:

I screwed a couple of gold dollar store hooks on it and painted them to look old. then put a bench I've had since my waist was 23" in front of it to make it into a hall seat. Hung a faux set of old keys, a mason jar filled with lavender, and a stained glass bauble from a dear friend on it. Then I sat back and admired my cleverness.

La di da, right?

Later, junkers!

Jeannie