Eye'm in the Mood for Summer (and Sales)

As I sit down to write this, I hear automobile tires make rolling contact with the wet street in front of our house. The ebb and flow of traffic on this rainy Wednesday morning is like the waves of the Pacific washing on shore with a little car stereo thrown in to rattle the living room windows.

Calendar wise, this week brings us the first day of summer also known as Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year according to equi-portions of light. Body wise, I am not convinced. Clad in fleece socks, leopard print slippers and long fuzzy pants, I almost warmed my lavender scented heat pack and slipped it under the covers earlier this morning to warm my tootsies as I sipped coffee and read. In other words, brrr.

Having just returned from Spokane last week fits perfectly into a couple of things on my mind. One is Father’s Day next Sunday, June 20th. This holiday – honoring our male parental units – began in Spokane, Washington in June of 1910. How convenient! That’s exactly 100 years ago, so Happy Birthday Father’s Day! I’d like to give a shout out to my dad, a very fine man, and publicly thank him for sticking around.

I’d also like to acknowledge that occasions like these can bring pain. Many have lost their fathers, maybe never knew them at all, or wish they hadn’t. There are also men separated from their children, who have lost them from tragedy, or who are going through intense personal struggles, so we also honor your experience.

Respectfully, shifting to a lighter note and a remnant from Spokane, the good thing about selling most of our necklaces at ArtFest is, well, the financial aspect and the confidence booster. The not-so-good thing about selling most of our necklaces is that we have to start over.

“Well just get yourselves into the studio and make some more,” you might sagely and sarcastically advise. I certainly would, but we are at the beginning stages of collecting interesting and old things from which to create.

Having been introduced to a phenomenal artist in Spokane (the woman I mentioned last week from Oregon’s ArtBeat), she opened the doors of her studio to us last Friday and we had the incredible opportunity to behold her magic space. If I felt like I fell down the rabbit hole before, I was uplifted on the wings of cruel angels this time, transported to a designer’s Utopia. Purchasing a church outright in a small town in Oregon, she turned the former place of worship into a studio that caused me to sin.

I admit it openly; I turned various shades of green. Taught not to covet, I must confess a la Jimmy Carter that I experienced lust in my heart. For there, in her high-ceilinged workshop, she had every imaginable and unimaginable item at her disposal to play with, floor to ceiling shelves of organized goodies. Where I might have three vintage tins, she had cases of them arranged in alphabetical color.

As I hunt and peck for old skeleton and typewriter keys, domino and Scrabble tiles, watch parts and clock gears, she has amassed piles of these interesting pieces, stacking them in beautiful containers, boxes and bowls. Not only is her workshop outfitted with every possible contingency, but it is like the best antique shop you’ve ever seen, tableau after tableau of curiosities positioned to stimulate one’s imagination.

I asked her if I had died and gone to heaven. She snorted. For her, after 30 years of collecting, it felt like purgatory. Funny how one person’s heaven can feel like hell to another.

I also asked her advice on starting at this late date in the game, collecting pieces for myself, when online auction sites have turned trash into treasure, closing down antique places, vintage stores and junk shops all around the country.

She told me to continue hunting yard sales and through what shops remain open. Her best luck has been in Texas flea markets and areas to the south. This has spurred Groom and I to think of how we can go hunting and gathering somewhere different than Lane County. We have collected enough airline miles to go on a domestic flight, but discovered they are about to expire. So we need to plan something ASAP or lose them.

Talking to my parents, they suggested contacting those in the biz and asking where in the country is the best place to shop for “orphans,” odd bits of broken jewelry, bobs of colored optical lenses, vintage tins, bisque dolls (tiny, could even be chipped or broken as a head, an arm or a leg could be worked into a quirky piece), old metal measuring spoons, cloth measuring tapes; fun weird stuff in basements, attics or collecting dust in junk drawers.

A friend who went AWOL (that’s another story, she’s been missing since April), told us about the world’s largest yard sale spanning four states for four days. I Googled it and online information varies. Alabama says it starts there and ends in Ohio. Tennessee claims center point and that it starts in Michigan and ends in Alabama. One site refers to 450 miles of continuous sales while another boasts 650, so details are a bit blurry. It’s known as the 127 Corridor Sale or Route 127. At least they agree on that number.

The idea would be to cash in our airline miles and fly to Birmingham, rent a vehicle and drive an hour until we hit the first sale. From there it would be shop until we drop for four days. In the heat, in the humidity, in August, in the South. We’re trying to picture how this would go. Bumper-to-bumper traffic, crawling at a snail’s pace, vying for parking and the best deals. No disrespect meant, but serious thrifters are not always the friendliest.

Groom and I spent Sunday going to Estate and yard sales, happy to be outside during our lone day of sunshine. We had smiles upon our faces, just happy to be together rummaging for creative materials. But howdy let me tell you, the other shoppers were grim. No smiles, all business, just “how much is this and can I have it for less?” If I accidentally bumped into somebody or vice versa (we were all crowded into a garage), I’d say “excuse me,” but instead of a polite response, I’d be faced by a stern looking Early Bird or Bargain Man glaring me down. I even had one Hardcore ask if he could buy what I had in my hand for fifty cents. It was marked $2.50. Sheesh.

So I’m trying to imagine multiplying that experience by about a billion percent, throwing in muggy heat to boot, unfamiliar territory, gas, lodging (where on earth would we sleep?) and then figure out how to get our booty home once we’re at the airport. Still sounds kinda fun.

We’re looking for old math tools, metal protractors, wooden rulers, interesting chain, vintage clasps, watch fobs, cool beads, anything with small moving parts, rusty metal schwag, old-fashioned microscope mounts, broken musical instruments with keys, old telephone dial plates, small glass bottles, sentimental frippery, period embellishments, vintage ornamentation, elegant geegaws, classic trinkets, stylish baubles, random collectibles and nostalgic inspiration.

We create crazy fun whimsically elegant steampunky tastefully odd jewelry from old pieces, using our newly acquired metalsmithing skills to transform bits of history into present day adornment. Just yesterday I was soldering old glass fuses and mini-light bulbs, turning potential landfill into charms to play with.

Shifting gears (oh yeah, we’re on the lookout for gears, dials, compasses…), June also is a month to celebrate emancipation. It’s called Juneteenth, the oldest known holiday to celebrate the end of slavery in 1865. Happy Freedom Day to everyone!

Last, but certainly NOT least, today is a very special day in our household. Our precious kitty kat is having his Golden birthday. He is turning 16 today on the 16th! Happy Birthday, sweetheart, we love you and are so grateful you found your way into our hearts. You’re still a young thing and we pray for many happy returns.

As for the photo selections, they do not illustrate the text this time, but are random shots we strung together. For better detail viewing, simply click on the picture you’d like to enlarge and then hit the back button to return to the blog.

Thanks for tuning in and have a wonderful, celebratory week.