Coming Soon - My Little Etsy Shop

Well, I am having withdrawal. No antique booth to tend to. I decided two months ago I needed to close my antique booths to concentrate on my writing. It was the right move. My shop days are behind me. But I still have so much to sell - and I am working on some jewelry. So, I am updating my old Etsy shop in hopes of listing some treasures for sale. So far I do what I do best - designed my logo. I am so good at setting things up - but slow in getting them in motion. So very me. I adore the process of finding graphics and pulling a look together. The actual act of listing, selling (or waiting to see if anything sells) makes me crazy. And if I love something - do I really want to sell it? A problem my entire life! A collector turned antique dealer is a questionable reality.

I've always loved gardens and flowers so that is where I will follow my heart. Making jewelry can be so relaxing between bouts of writing! My little shop will also sell vintage garden items.

Four years ago my jewelry line, Time In A Garden, was featured in The Atlanta Botanical Gardens Gift Shop. Vintage bug pins, chains, beads, and old watch parts made up necklaces and pins.  I found a few remaining pieces and plan to put them up later this week on Etsy. A sneak peek below. I hope to make some new designs with more bling - garden bling! Stay tuned.

Note: When you see the photos below remember I love whimsy in everything!

 

                                                   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Don't Count Your Chickens Before They Hatch

    

My hen's nest on the fence leading to the patio.

     I now have a hen's nest hanging on my fence to remind me to take a breath before I hatch an idea. My dreams are always way ahead of my reality. I've never gotten the answer to what came first, the chicken or the egg? So I do things out of order. Some days I run around like a chicken with its head cut off. An example is my latest purchase. Money spent for something I didn't need. My nest egg is pretty much gone with my silly spending. But I don't worry too much. I've learned to keep my sunny side up.

     The purchase came about because of two words. 'Urban Farming'. The phrase is so hot, you could fry an egg on it. Friends of mine in metro Atlanta have hens in their back yard and fresh eggs for breakfast. I didn't want to be left with egg on my face, I wanted to be part of the movement. The cottage in my mind could be a tiny city farm. I decided I'd have chickens too.

     Another idea that could label me a bird brain.

     I drove home from a day of shopping in Monroe, Georgia, with a huge old hen house in the back of the van. I strutted my stuff into the driveway and unloaded my vehicle, only then realizing how large the hen's nest was. I had to drag it across the driveway up to my privacy fence by the patio. Since I was no spring chicken, I huffed and puffed until I got it in place. The sound of metal grating on concrete ruffled my feathers. It also alerted the pack of hounds I was home. Six dogs howled from the kitchen wanting out in the yard.

     It was at that moment I realized I'd laid an egg. My grand idea was not everything it was cracked up to be. How would I have chickens in a yard that was full of dogs? I felt like a dumb cluck.

     There was no sense to brood over it.

     Quit your squawking! I chided myself.

     While I couldn't have an urban farm, I could decorate farm style..

     My ideas had a pecking order.

     I set about to feather my nest.

     First I hung the hen's nest on the fence wall that leads to my patio. It won't hold chickens, but I can plant flowers in it.

     That made me as happy as a rooster in a hen house.

     Next I pulled an old peaches sign from the pile of things to go to my shop and hung it by my front door.

I was fussin like an old hen with my decorating ideas.

     There is one final egg in my basket, but I will surprise you with it later, after a bit more work is done on the place.

     Yes, this is a bit of a cock and bull story, but I am excited about my farm accents and feel I have something to crow about!

     Next time I worry I've jumped into something too quickly and the sky is falling, I'll remember what Oscar Wilde said: "People who count their chickens before they are hatched, act very wisely, because chickens run about so absurdly that it is impossible to count them accurately."

      Perhaps going off half cocked is not such a bad idea after all!

Farm style peaches sign. Old and rusty. Perfect by my front door.

The original lady chicken farmer - a romantic notion for sure in her white dress.

Waiting for a Margarita!

I Can See Clearly Now ...Revisiting My Back Yard

Before

On April 25, I posted about my back yard nightmare! You can visit the post here. The back of my house was a jungle I didn't know how to tame. Several years of neglect sprouted small trees and Privet in all my beds. What you can't see here is the tall wrought iron garden cart to the left and the five foot tall iron angel to the right.

Right?

Well take another look now!

In my book The Unfaithful Widow I talk about my garden. It is a garden full of memories more than one I plant in each year. Some of those memories were uncovered yesterday with the help of two great workers. A tree service I've used before came to clean my roof and gutters and get my yard back to where I can work in it again. There is still much to do, but a great start don't you think?

                                After                           

My vintage garden angel taller than I am.

There she is, my angel Anne, named for my late husband's cousin. She left here a year after he did. I found this angel at an antique store and knew I would always remember her when I looked at it. She has been hidden too long! Morning, I heard her voice in a soft whisper that brushed past me when I took this photo earlier. She was a psychic so you never know!

Garden cart and trellis topped with a huge rose bush ready to bloom!

 

The tall garden cart came from the Atlanta Botanical Gardens gift shop when I worked there part-time my first year alone. It was black, but a coat of pink paint made it perfect for a cottage garden. The back wood trellis was built by my husband over twenty-five years ago. Both are covered in roses that are ready to bloom. The bush came from a small plant purchased at the grocery store, grew out of control in its pot and was transplanted into the garden. With all the neglect, it comes back and blooms every year. Now I can see it! Look for photos when my roses take off.

Brace yourself for the next change. It gives me the willies actually, but everyone says Crepe Myrtles grow back. The one in my center back yard was cut back to the nubbins! I cringe on that, but it will be beautiufl again. Down my street the county has done the same with all the Crepe Myrtles that bloom there. I see new sprouts on them and it has only been two weeks since they were chopped down! My butterfly bushes grew into the top of the Crepe Myrtle, now are trimmed back and shaped. I can see the side chain link fence. The dogs love the freedome to run through the beds now! I feel like the world can peek in my yard and see me. Actually, beyond the fence is the rest of my property and a right-of-way that goes down to a creek. Visually it is so open now I feel exposed but there is a huge buffer between me and my neighbor!

Before

After. Ouch!

Bray can't hide in the butterfly bushes anymore!

A few more after shots of the yard!

Another Crepe Myrtle trimmed painfully. Trellis built by my husband many years ago. Remains of a David Austin rose bush by bottom window. One tiny pink bud on it! I bought that rose from a catalog as many years ago as the trellis was built and on occassion it blooms. It is amazing to me it is still alive.

Annabelle checks out the yard from my deck.

Annabelle prefers the view from the patio. She is my oldest dog (as in age) and the second rescue dog I adopted.

The Lady Of Lilburn has a clear view now that the Privet has been cut away. Small statues in the bed by the pea gravel patio are for Foxy and Jake, my old German Shepherds that lived a great life.

Another old iron piece in the yard and doesn't everyone need a plastic Flamingo, this one faded from the sun. End of the bed with the pink cart facing the outbuildings.

Rosemary for Remembrance
My Garden of Memories will bloom this year!

I see a party in the future! Perhaps I too am a psychic.

Every Cottage Garden Needs A Muse

Lily at Vintage Village in Snellville waiting to come home with me.

     Every cottage garden needs a muse. I found mine yesterday at a favorite shop,  Vintage Village,  in Snellville, Georgia. She is now in my van, waiting for my handyman to place her by the picket fence when he comes back to work in a few days. I have a good friend to thank for her!

      This week, I am trying to decide what to plant next to my new fence. Something that will thrive in the shade, come back each year, and have a touch of green in the winter months. Most of the trash shrubs along the fence line were cut down or dug up. Two plants remain that have a bit of history.

      There is a lone pink rose bush that surprises me each year when it blooms. It was planted before I moved to this house, and comes back despite years of neglect.

     A hydrangea bush, I planted eight years ago, and forgot about, still grows despite being covered by weeds and small trees that sprouted while I ignored the front yard.  My handyman was careful not to dig it up after I warned him the bush was there.

     While I am not sure what I want in the way of plants, I knew I needed a garden lady to tuck in the nook of the fence. My garden needed its muse. I have a love affair with vintage garden statues. They are in my back yard, they are highlighted as art inside my house. The really old and fragile ones sit on dresser tops, while sturdier ones are allowed to venture into the gardens. 

     All my friends know my passion for old cement. They keep an eye out for me and let me know if they find something special.

     A call came in early Sunday evening from an antique buddy.

    "I'm at Vintage Village and the most wonderful cement lady is here in another booth. Thought about you." My friend rents space at the shop under the name My Vintage Heart.  The shop was closed, she was dropping off treasures for her space, but the timing was great that the statue was still there.

     Vintage Village is located in Snellville, Georgia, about twenty-five miles up the road from my house. It is on my way to Monroe, where I rent a spot at Hodge Podge Art, Antiques and Interiors.  I usually stop in there when I make a run to my booth. It always feels like home when I visit and I rarely leave empty-handed.
     
     "Sending a text with her photo now."

      Within a minute the photo arrived, and I was beside myself. This was the lady of my dreams for the cottage in my mind. She is beautiful, weathered perfectly, and tall.    

       "OMG! I love her. Just what I wanted. I'll be there tomorrow to buy her. Leave a note on the front desk!"

      I called the shop first thing Monday and then ran out to pick up Lily, as she had been named.

     Lily will be placed inside the fence, facing the house. I will smile at her with delight when I sit in my living room. Look for photos when she makes her appearance!

Photo from the test message my friend sent me!