A few of my favorite things.

I've been thinking about my blog a lot. I don't think I want to blog only about my 1950's hobby. I think it will be a big part of what I blog about, as it's a hobby I'm passionate about, but I think it was to restrictive for me. The kinds of things I like to read and write about are varied, and I don't want to have to have a blog for every other interest, so this blog will be a jumble. A mixture, a potpouri, a chronicle of this messy life (lived hopefully in a clean house).

So here are a few of my favorite things:

Our chickens. Here are Darla and Frankie, an Aracana and Rhode Island Red. Darla was handraised by someone else, and is very spoiled!

We got Frankie from a local farm where she was a laying hen in an operation with several hundred others. The other two are our newest chickens, Red and Blondie, another RIR and we think Blondie is a Buff Cochin; she has fluffy, feathery feet. They have both grown so much in the week since this picture as taken.

Now in all the excitement of the two new additions, no one, meaning Frankie, has laid any eggs. Darla has yet to lay for us and we've had her for months. She apparently doesn't think we are worthy. We are not keeping her in the manner to which she had been accustomed. Harumph!

The two new girls have a couple months to go probably before they begin to lay, although the way Blondie is filling out, she may be ready sooner. She's going to be a beautifully fluffy bird.

Long before I ever had chickens, I've had a thing about eggs! I just think they are the coolest objects in the world. I love their shape. I'm fascinated by them. I collect them, both real and whimsical.

In the red glass dishes are some eggs my mother-in-law had collected as well as shells I've collected. Every spring when songbirds hatch out, I or my husband find these shells in the yard. I must have them, so we put them in one of these dishes. I found the nest at my mother's house. It had fallen out of a shrub, one egg lay on the ground, broken, the other lay nearby. The egg was cold; I knew there was no saving it, so I took the nest and egg home with me. Alas, the egg in the nest today is a substitute. Something ate the egg out of the nest. I had it on my porch and it went unmolested for months, until recently.

I simply love the salt and pepper shakers, especially the whole egg ones. Eggs just make me giddy! I cannot explain it.

Our cat Autumn was snoozing on the window sill as I was taking pictures of the eggs. I'm sure cats will be featured here on more than one occasion. We have 3 and they are our children. They are disgustingly spoiled and run the household. Herself is the Princess.

I don't remember precisely where the milk bottle came from. I think my mother and step-father picked it up somewhere. It says Burke Dairy on it. Burke being my maiden name, I thought the bottle worth keeping. It also takes me back to my adolescence when a friend's family still had milk delivered in bottles by the milkman. I was fascinated by this, since we didn't have a milkman in our neighborhood. The milk at my friend's seemed to taste so much better!

The little glass bottles were creamers that were served at a seafood restaurant down the street 30-50 years ago. They were dug up in our yard. You see, my yard used to be my husband's grandfather's hog farm, and his grandfather used to to feed his hogs the garbage (better word than swill?) from the restaurant. So buried all over the yard were these creamers, forks, foil crab shells they made devilled crab in, etc. These creamers harken back to a time--I want to say when things were less disposable, but apparently not; however, these could have been reused . . . . and probably often were.

Well, so here goes, a new direction for the blog. Of course the vintage stuff will be displayed as appropriate. The best thing is that I now have some much needed distractions from the stresses of work, which I've needed desperately for the last 5 years. So welcome. Check it out. Chime in. Chill out. And Ciao for now.

Going Once; Going Twice . . . .

Last night my husband and I went to an auction up the country. My in-laws go every Thursday night, and we hadn't been in a long time. Now that I'm interested in 1950's things, I thought it might be a great place to see what I could find. I was so excited. My husband and I also needed to get out of the house and out of our routine. We'd both been sick over the last month and frankly besides going to work, I hadn't been anywhere but the house.


So far most of what I've been looking at and studying has been clothes, shoes, handbags, hairstyles, that kind of thing. This auction didn't have any clothes that I saw, no shoes from the period. I saw a handbag, more of a clutch that had possibilities. Just a black hinged affair with a clasp at the top and a chain for a strap. What interested me the most were vintage linens. There were what were once beautiful christening gowns, badly stained now. Lots of handkerchiefs, napkins, dish towels. A few aprons that had possibilities. A pinafore I really thought twice about. But most of the stuff was so badly soiled from long years of storage in dampness maybe. I don't know enough yet to know if these things can be cleaned or if they are a loss. Also in this lot of linens were several gauzy scarves--the kind women/girls in the 1950's tied around their necks or ponytails. These also made me consider this lot.


I think I also need to start looking at 1950's interiors. I don't know enough about the period's furniture to know 50's when I see it. Some things I know right off, but I didn't see anything last night that particularly stood out.


Ultimately, there wasn't enough last night to hold any of our interest and keep us there until the bidding started. But it was a nice way to spend the evening, and it was good to see the in-laws.


The auction's held in a small town, and it was clear that I was an outsider. We tend to think of small towns as friendly places where everybody knows everyone's name (and everyone's business), but they are also suspicious of strangers. I noticed people taking my measure, knowing they hadn't seen me before, and many were not terribly open or friendly. Just an observation.


It's exciting to see some of the things I've only just started looking at on Ebay and Etsy, and to know that these items were part of someone's life in the past, in a period I'm only beginning to study. I'm hoping to make the auction a monthly event on our social calendar.

And so it begins

Welcome to my blog. A few weeks ago, I was noodling around on the internet and found a few sites about women who lived their lives as if it were the 1940's or the 1950's. This intrigued me. I started looking around some more and found a number of great sites and blogs about other women who are doing similar things. Some immerse themselves completely in their favorite era and others adopt attitudes, traditions, styles.

Well, count me among them. I'm not sure where this journey will lead, but I hope a few things will happen along the way. I want to simplify my life. I want to be more self sufficient. I want to learn to do more for myself. I want to have a home I'm proud to have friends and family over to.

Why should any of this be framed by the 1950's? Why not? And there's almost no better era in recent history where there is so much in the way of magazines and manuals to help me do all of the things I've outlined above. And nostalgia for what has always been portrayed as a simpler time. And I've always loved the fashion. So feminine.

I hope you'll join me from time to time. I can't wait to see how this unfolds.

Fannie