Thrift Love - Goodwill Update

This post is for my "Goodwill Girls" who want to know how the stuff I buy ends up.  Here are some recent fix ups.

The chicken-coop- looking thing in the first pic...I have no idea what it was, but the doors open up pulling  down with a very skinny chain inside. $4.25 Goodwill   All I did was clean it, paint it, replace one of the knobs (99 cents at Lowes) and fill it with towels.  The pic is of my late father-in-law and the pitcher was from TJ Maxx, when I used to go there instead of being lean and green at Goodwill.   My in laws bought the lacy table runner on top in Europe.

The red and black shelf was $1.25 at Goodwill  The finish was damaged and it smelled bad.  I washed it out with bleach and rubbed the stinky drawers with vanilla extract.  I spray-prainted it and mod-podged a page from a calendar my mother -in-law gave me to the back.  I think "Mr. January" Rooster looks very handsome on my kitchen desk.

The white shelf with the heart on it came from Goodwill today.  I'm not sure if you can see it, but the heart is lined with chicken wire.  $1.25.  All I did was wash it off and spray paint it. The cups and the white planter also came from Goodwill, as did the lace that is on the desk underneath.  It was actually a curtain valance and was half price yesterday at Goodwill.  The desk underneath was a curbside find.  It had melted wax and cigarette burns on the original finish.  I painted it white and got some fancy knobs from Lowes to replace the missing ones.  There is a really cool secret drawer in the middle.

 The vintage mirror is Art Deco and came from a trash heap in front of Dutch Andrew's house.  It was missing a bit of trim, so I hot glue-gunned a silk flower in the missing area.  Two of the hats were from Goodwill.  The brown velvet one with the green flowers belonged to my Grandmother.

In the picture on the stairwell, the 1920's dress also came from Goodwill.  It must have fit an impossibly slender flapper, because I don't think it would have fit me in second grade   Another case of decorating with thrifted clothing.  The little purse on the top of the hanger was my Grandmother Dunn's, whose engagement picture you can see on the top suitcase.  The handsome gentleman in the larger frame is my husband's grandfather, Orville Bremer.   The stack of suitcases also came from Goodwil and church "Rags to "Riches" sales.  It took me several years to accumulate them. 

One of the suitcases has the monogram "MLK."  The kids I mentor decided that it had belonged to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  LOL. I know who the suitcase belonged to.  She was a sweet older Southern lady whose name was Mary Lou.  I can assure you she was as different physically from Dr. King as is possible. 

The vintage globes?  Goodwill, of course.  I look to see if the country in Africa is called Rhodesia or Zimbabwe in order to see how old it is.  Rhodesia means it is vintage.  I also look for the Soviet Union vs.individual countries like Russia and Ukraine, added after the fall of the Berlin Wall.    The little bead board cabinet was left out for garbage pick up when my church was renovated.  The shutters were in my attic when I moved in.  The little picture frame came from a yard sale and the pic of the little boy inside came from an old reading book.

I've been under a lot of stress with my father's illness, so please forgive all the edits I had to make on a second look at this.

Housework as Liturgy

I hope you all enjoy the excerpt below taken from the devotional book I am reading

An Altar in the World
by Barbara Brown Taylor

Cleaning refrigerators and toilets helps you connect with the food cycle at both ends. Making beds reminds you that life-giving activities do not take up much space. Hanging laundry on the line offers you a chance to fly prayer flags disguised as bath towels and underwear. If all life is holy, then anything that sustains life has holy dimensions too. The difference between washing windows and resting in God can be a simple decision: choose the work, and it becomes your spiritual practice. Spraying the vinegar and water on the pains, you baptize the glass. Rubbing away the film, ye repent ye of your sins. Polishing the glass, you let in the light. No task is too menial to serve as a path. If you are able to sustain other lives along with your own, then all the better.

Decorating with Vintage Clothing

I've become fascinated lately with using vintage clothing as decor.  Over the last few months, I've run across an amazing beaded flapper dress, two sweet christening gowns, and some beautiful lingerie from the fifties (bed jackets with lace and nightgowns) that I've ended up using in the little vignettes I like to scatter around my home.   

My window treatments are extremely simple; vintage priscilla curtains, lace curtains which I tea dye, or solid-color sheets that I purchase on sale.  I'm sure that you know how to make a curtain that way, right?  Just open the top hem of the sheet with a seam ripper, the part of the sheet you'd fold over the blanket when making the bed, and stick a rod through it.  I use wide ribbons marked down from Michaels as tie backs and often fasten the handle of a pretty vintage tea cup into the bow.  I've been using vintage clothes to dress up these windows on the cheap. 

In the pic above, the darling Battenberg lace dress and child's hat from the fifites were under $5 together.  The ceramic birds were from Goodwill and The Dollar Store.  I took the picture in sepia tones.  I love how it turned out.

I've hung adult clothes on vintage wooden or satin lingerie hangers that I pick up cheaply at thrift stores.  I hang the bigger garments on the rod, right on top of the curtain with some pretty spectacular results.   These lovely old dresses or nighties that I pick up cheaply (my rule is that they must be under $5) look casually stunning hung over a bedroom door from the top, with some coordinating old costume jewelry hanging with them.  It is easy to find things which coordinate with any color scheme.  I like to imagine that the pink and white bed jacket with roses and white nighties were left hanging on my bedroom door by a fomer resident of 256 Constitution Avenue, taking me right back to the 1940's. 

Simple,white baby clothes look lovely tea-dyed, starched, and hung against old windows resuced from the street and used for display.  Finally, I like those wooden accordian-type hanging affairs that you might see in a kitchen or laundry room for display.  You know the kind that you find at garage sales and thrift stores.  I spray paint them white and hang starched baby clothes, and even battered baby shoes, from the posts, along with charming flowered vintage plates, and hydrangea bouquets from the front yard.  You can created a unique, personalized display for a very small price.

Life Really is Just a

Muskrat Suzy and Muskrat Sam or How Much is that Doggie in the Window?

Okay, truly one of the worst songs of the 70's was Muskrat Love by The Captain and Tenille  Just think about sitting down to write a song about rodents in love.  But that's what Bruce calls Lulu and that "other dog"...Muskrat Suzy and Muskrat Sam. 

I've never had a dog with a boyfriend before.  Spunky is the dog that we "share custody of" with our backyard neighbors, Roger and Chrissy.  The Spunkmiester never paid too much attention to our old girls, but when Lulu arrived, oooo la la! 

He taught himself to jump over the fence to get into the yard.  Later on, he learned how to bang on the back door and bay for her, as beagles do.  While I was in Atlanta with Lulu, he'd come in the house in the morning with the two old girls.  Bruce would tell him, "She's not here, go home."    And off he'd go back over the fence to eat his breakfast.

Uh, hi, can Lulu come out to play?

Let the games begin!

Offensive penalty...holding.

Shall we dance?

Drop my stuffed baby and walk backward to the sound of my woof.

Just another day at the Bremers.

My Old-Timey Friend, Hester

I wish you’d known my wonderful friend, Hester Kimpel, who passed on to Glory two weeks ago at 96. I was driving to Atlanta to be with my family when I heard the news. I was thankful that her suffering was at an end and that she was with her Lord, but had to sort of seal off my personal feelings to deal with my Papa’s illness.

Since I’ve been home, I’ve had more time to grieve and to reflect on her truly amazing life. The sermon yesterday was about the death of King Saul and how there were many reactions to his passing. David, who had been persecuted for years by Saul, mourned, tearing his garments. Another person took advantage of his death to try to promote his own agenda with the new King David,  The news was hidden from others, Saul’s enemies, because they would have danced in the streets, rejoicing at his passing. Pastor Sam asked us the very penetrating question, “How will others react to your death?"

My immediate reaction was relief and joy for her, as she had been suffering from cancer. Hester was bedridden and confused by medication. She couldn’t really eat or read, two of her great loves. As she said to her daughter, Chris, “This just isn’t my style.” No kidding.

Hester was born in Wales before World War I. Her family was due to go to America on the HMS Lusitania. However, the Germans sunk this vessel and the US entered World War I as a result. Her father worked with horses. Her mother, Minna Dix,was rather deaf and loved to wear polka dots.

She grew up in Pittsburgh and married Holmes Kimpel. He was a handsome man, judging by his World War II picture on her bureau. He had a soothing voice and loved to dance. After Holmes’ death, she moved to an apartment on the Elizabeth River here in Portsmouth and started a new life, well into her eighties.

Hester walked and took the bus everywhere. She traveled to Japan alone to visit friend when she was in her late eighties. She traveled alone to New Mexico at 96 with terminal cancer to visit her daughter. When her physician advised her of the grim diagnosis, Hester comforted the doctor. As I dissolved into tears at the news, she said, “Annie, I’m 96. I have to die from something.”

Hester loved life. I gave her a Starbucks habit when she was 91. We whiled away many hours at Starbucks. Her drink was a mocha frappucino with extra whipped cream and she relished it to the very last drop. Sometimes she'd slurp up the whipped cream with a straw and a grin.  She’d tell me about her travels with Holmes and about her life without him while he was away fighting in the Battle of the Bulge. Hester even shared the little bookkeeping notebook she kept all these years of household expenses during the Second World War.

Hester loved to eat. She loved hot dogs, Chinese food, and pecan rolls from Pannera. She liked a good breakfast which nearly always included toast with orange marmalade. The Dollar Store was one of her favorite haunts…she loved a bargain.

She taught me a lot of wisdom about love, the Lord, and life.  She'd say, "Annie, I don't worry too much.  I live it all in the Lord's hands. Hester taught me how to live life well.

I taught her “the rule of 90.” Apparently Hester’s friend had chided her about the expense of the sharp cheddar cheese Hester purchased while with her. Hester was torn between being indignant about it and wondering if she was being too self-indulgent. I told her that once you were 90, you could eat as much chocolate as you liked and could spend as much money on sharp cheddar cheese as you felt like. The rule of 90 also applied if you felt like having an ice cream cone for lunch, if you wanted to blow off Bible study one Wednesday, and also if you felt like buying a shirt you didn’t really need. Hester loved this rule and I did, too.

Hester did not want to be treated like an old lady. So I didn’t treat her like one. She loved to dress up and have coordinating jewelry to go with each outfit. She thoughtfully chose what she would wear and often wore a snazzy ball cap that many 20 year olds would have worn.

Hester loved, loved, LOVED the movies. She taught me how to order Netflix over the computer. One balmy spring day four years ago, Bruce and I and another friend were walking with her to “the Chinese.” We were trying to remember the name of an actor which eluded us. “Oh yes, I know, he was in Pay it Forward and Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil,“ I said as all of us, generations behind Hester, wracked our brains for his name. Hester piped up from the back, “Oh yeah, that’s Kevin Spacey.”

Hester talked breathing in and breathing out, as my grandfather would say.  She had an adorable little verbal tic.  When she meant to say "real" she would say "really."  For example, in a discussion of a colleague of my husband's nickname of Flounder, she said, "Is that his really name?"  I loved that.

One day when we were on line at Starbucks, when Hester was 95, she was lamenting to me that she’d only spent 20 minutes on the treadmill in her apartment’s little gym. Hester loved to dance and often danced by herself in her apartment to keep limber. Our church had a long-standing tradition of dancing quite a goofy number to “The Twelve Days of Christmas” and Hester was always the first one up to participate.  You can see her above "Christmas Dancing."

During her final days, Bruce and I sat by her bed as she prayed and we read from the Bible to her. She murmured under her breath, “I’m not worthy, Lord. I’m not worthy.” Bruce said, “you’re right Hester, you aren’t worthy. None of us are, but Jesus is and He has taken care of everything.”

I know that Hester is dancing with Jesus right now, but my eyes blur with tears as I write this, because I shall miss her.  And for the rest of us, if we get the chance to sit it out or dance, I hope we, like Hester, will dance until the Lord takes us home.

Thrift Love - Goodwill Again - Before and After

I've been looking to switch out the unit that I keep my television in.  It is the last contemporary item in my home, purchased when I was first married years ago.  Bruce and I painted and "shabby chic'ed" it about ten years ago, knowing that we'd replace it at some point.  A few weeks back, I found an Art Deco buffet at Goodwill in need of just a little love for $20.25.  Here it is, in a "before" pic:

Here it is after, with a minor repair and some glossy white paint.

And here is the decor surrounding the buffet.  The "Home Sweet Home" embroidered picture is from Vintageology in Marietta, GA.  The frame that the blue plate is hanging on is from Goodwill.  It was orginally a dark finish and had a mirror in it.  The beautiful plate and blue cups were given to me by Bruce's mother.  The christening gown was from a local thrift store and was brand new.  I tea dyed it to make it look like a tresured heirloom.    Everything else is from Goodwill.

Speaking of Goodwill, please note the lovely comment under my post about my Papa from Angela, a Goodwill employee.  I guess you know you have a major Goodwill habit when the employees are commenting on your blog LOL. 

Marietta Square

In the midst of all the anxiety of my trip to Georgia, my sister and I were able to steal away and have some good times together.  We're both geeks, so one of the most fun things we did was ordering in Chinese food and watching lurid stories about disasters on the History International Channel. 

Another thing we did was take a trip to Marietta Square.  This is a quaint, old-fashioned area with wonderful bakeries, restaurants, and one-of-a-kind shops,.  Check out their website here:  http://www.mariettasquare.com/

I took some pics of the Square and the surrounding area which I HOPE will give you a flavor of what our afternoon was like.  We stopped in for ice cream and I bought some wonderful things I'll show you later in a shope called "Vintageology"  Isn't that a great name?   

My Papa

I’ve been thinking about writing this post for several days, now. It is amazing how stress completely saps any kind of creativity and initiative. 

I went to Atlanta to help my mother and sister care for and make some decisions about my Papa. As I have alluded to here, he is ill. Specifically, he has a cancer which is something like leukemia and a heart condition. Five years or so ago, he was essentially given a death sentence, until a wonderful physician included him in a clinical trial which gave him a good quality of life and the bonus of these last, extra, and precious years.  The picture above is of my fabulous sister and my Papa following his surgery.

In recent weeks, however, his blood count has been going down and down, necessitating frequent transfusions. Two weeks ago, he had a heart attack. His spirit remains strong, however, and he says that “God isn’t finished with him yet.”

When I l arrived, he had surgery to alleviate some symptoms. Without going into great detail, the discharge planner at Cobb Hospital in the Atlanta area provided my family with less than two hours to find a rehab hospital for him. My mother and I toured two of these hospitals on Cobb’s list which were so horrifying that I had nightmares about it later. Instead of the sign for the rehab facility out front , there should have been a sign which said (as the Gates of Hell have in Dante’s Inferno) “Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here.”

Thank God we were able to find a wonderful facility for Papa which is immaculate, quiet, committed to patient care, and treats him with dignity. For Father’s Day, my sister and I put a wrought iron “Shepherd’s Crook” outside his window with a bird feeder on one side and a hanging plant on the other.

I’m back home and musing about how our society treats the aged. I come from an educated family with other insurance besides Medicare. We have options and can research information on the Internet. We have the transportation to visit different locations and don’t need to worry about proximity to a busline. We understand that we can say no to a facility. We have professional contacts who can assist us in an emergency.

What on earth do people who rely on social security for their entire income do? What about those who cannot advocate for themselves and have no family? What about those with families who do not have access to the Internet and transportation. What happens to them? Are they the ones who are doomed to abandon all hope when they enter?

Isn’t it a shame that this country allocates money and resources to those who sue for a plastic surgery which left their belly button one fraction of an inch too far to the left? Isn’t it ridiculous that the media researches and publicizes the latest rehab admission of Lindsey Lohan and which politician has been rumored to be unfaithful? The media follows Balloon Boy, people who illegally climb the Empire State Building, whether Tori Spelling is too thin, and if Brad Pitt is secretly meeting behind Angelina’s back with Jennifer?

I wish to God that someone could figure out how it is that Medicare spends an obscene amount of money only to allow and pay for this kind of care for people who can’t fight back.

Thrift Love - Little Shelf

Almost verything on this mantle in my bedroom is thrifted.  I pickd up the little shelf at (you guessed it) Goodwill for $3.25.  The cup, sugar dish, and creamer are also Goodwill.  The two vintage botanical prints came from a little junk store, which sadly is no longer in business.  The lace is a curtain which my mother passed on to me.  I like looking at this every morning when I first wake up.

Thrift Love - Cardinals

I love ceramic birds and vintage pictures of birds.   I scored two wonderful cardinal pictures at Goodwill last week for cheap, cheap, cheap. 

I've been in the vintage zone.  My Papa continues to have very serious heart problems and also has cancer.  When I am troubled, I nest.  The more upset I am, the better my house looks.  Sometimes, I even fix things up at a friend's house. 

If my tile grout in my bathroom is sparkling, if the baseboards are pristine, and there are new treasures peaking out here and there, something difficult is happening in my life.  I seem full of nervous energy, so rather than being anxious and worrying, I put the energy into being productive and making something beautiful.  I can't fix the difficult situation, God will do that, but I CAN make my surroundings better.  This always picks up my spirits and takes my mind off the problem.

 I transferred one of the cardinal pics from a nasty metal drug store frame into a vintage one (also from Goodwill).  A frame can make all the difference, don't you think?  The other cardinal boy is propped up on my kitchen desk.  I'm waiting until another round frame finds me so I can add it to the other side of my vintage kitchen cabinet.  In the meantime, I love the frame color...very Daisy Cottage, isn't it?

Cottage Garden Out Front

The Front Porch

We have been spending a lot of time on the front porch in the evening, lighting the candles, and listening to classical music.  We had it painted in the Autumn during a trip to New York.  We've been enjoying it this spring more than ever before.  You may notice that the porch ceiling is a light robins-egg blue, which might seem an odd choice.  Back in the day, porch ceilings were painted this hue to mimic the sky.  It was thought that wasps, bees, and other nesting insects would consider that the blue was the sky and keep moving on.

The rockers are from Walmart and the other furnishings are all from Goodwill down the street.  I was amazed to find the wonderful Singer sewing machine table, plant stands, and the vintage oil painting there.  The picture frame was a yucky maple finish, so I spray painted it black to match the rockers.   I really broke the bank with it, $2.25 plus the black spray paint.  I may write an ode to spray paint some time.

An oil painting hanging outside is so Kim McCole from Daisy Cottage, isn't it?  Only Kim would have painted the frame bright red or bright yellow!  The painting would be right at home at her house, though.  I think that's why I bought it!  http://deardaisycottage.typepad.com/

I've been spending my quiet time with God here in the early morning, reading the Word, rocking, praying for my stepfather's health, and waiting to hear what God has to say to me.  There's something about a rocking chair that puts you in a better stance to listen somehow.  Trust me, I need to have some kind of aid in order to be "slow to speak and quick to hear."

Ahhhhhh, Fresh Eggs!

My neighbor Georgianne brought back some farm-fresh, free range, brown eggs for me from Gloucester, Virginia about an hour away.  I made simple scrambled eggs with salt and paper with them.  Oh the butter, golden goodness and an intense egginess that you don't get in store-bought eggs.  I just had to put them in a plan white bowl on an old kitchen scale.

Lulu Came Back!

Last week, we decided to go to the oceanfront at Va Beach and take a long walk on the boardwalk.  Bruce and I were heartsick about the dogs and wanted to take our minds off it all.   We have a favorite Greek restaurant there. All the way home in the car, I had in my mind's eye a vision of Louise on the front porch. I kept brushing it off, so as not to be disappointed. When we got home, she wasn't on the front porch, but was curled up on the back stoop. She was filthy, with grease spots, but was very happy to get back home.

The next day, she got out again and just ran from the back yard to the front yard. We put her back in the back yard and Bruce said to her, "LuLu, how are you getting out?" She took him to the spot immediately, so impossibly narrow that you couldn't believe that she could get out. He told her NO in no uncertain terms and she hasn't gone near it since.

We realized after LuLu came back that it was Thelma who was chewing things, knocking over the garbage, etc. There's been no chewing at all since LuLu has been back. We also noticed that she was sort of pushing Maxine around, would try to take her bones, etc. We don't know if Thelma is meant to come back. Huskies are wanderers. We're just keeping her in prayer. If she comes back, my neighbor directly behind us really wants her, so that may be a good fit. One of our huskies, Lupa, was at someone else's house for three weeks before she came back.

In the meantime, LuLu has turned out to be the best dog we've ever had, including mighty Alex the wonderbeast. She fits in perfectly and is the most loving dog ever. Her only fault is that she is fairly food intense. I had forgotten how long a reach a young dog can have standing up on her back legs. I made a killer eggplant parm last night. I doubled the recipe so that I could freeze half of it for next week. We heard a crash in the kitchen. When we came in, she had that guilty dog look and she looked like Keith Ledger's Joker from Batman, with red sauce all over her white face from ear to ear. Then she did that nervous dog smile and she had eggplant stuck in her teeth. We can't even get mad at her, we just burst out laughing.

My Life As George Jetson

I apologize for not posting sooner. There has been so much happening that I feel like George Jetson on the treadmill with Astro, sliding down the back and falling off.

I have been having terrible pain in my hands, so it has been difficult to post. Thank God that my doctor prescribed Mobic and I am feeling so much better.

Secondly, I graduated from college yesterday with a degree in Criminal Justice.

Thelma and Louise somehow got out of our backyard yesterday and are on the lam ojnce again. I pray that they stay safe and we are doing all we can to find them.

Some of you asked for an update on Kewon. He went to court on my birthday. His court appointed lawyer had said that nothing would happen on this court date other than a procedure to certify that there was enough evidence against him to move forward.

Several weeks before, we had gotten him a Polo by Ralph Lauren blue oxford-cloth shirt (brand new with the tags still on it from Goodwill)and he already had some nice pants. Kewon was so nervous that he forgot his tie. Bruce accompanied Kewon and his mom. Just before they entered court, Bruce took off his tie and put it on Kewon. Kewon doesn’t know how to put on a tie, so Bruce was putting the knot in it for him. An Afircan American woman passing by stopped and said, “I wish I had a lawyer like that.” Bruce replied, “I’m not his lawyer, this is my son.” We wanted him to make a good impression on the judge.

Suddenly, just before the trial time, his lawyer advised us that the district attorney was offering Kewon a deal. The very serious charges would be totally dropped and expunged from his record. This depended on Kewon pleading guilty to lesser charges. Without going into detail, he didn’t really do what the reduced charges involved.

He and Bruce called me. “Miss Annie, you said that I had to tell the truth. I want to get this over with, but I don’t want to lie about what I did.” I didn’t want him to either. I prayed about it and asked to talk to his lawyer. I asked her if he could enter an Alford Plea (no contest) which simply acknowledges that there is a lot of evidence against a person. Kewon would not need to lie.  The district attorney agreed to accept this and so Kewon’s case was adjudicated.

Kewon originally had serious felony charges against him. We feel that God intervened. At first I was disappointed that he had to plead to anything at all. In retrospect I believe that this has provided him with a valuable lesson about using better judgment.

Thanks to all of you for your concern for Kewon.

Spunky

Okay so Spunky is the adorable dog that lives across the back fence.  In fact, when Roger, Spunky's Dad, built a new privacy fence, he deliberately left part of the old, shorter chain link there so that Spunky could visit with Maxine and Little Bit across the fence, so to speak.

Now Spunky is, as they say, a young pup, and Maxie and Little Bit are senior dogs.  He was mildly interested and polite. 

But then Thelma and Louise came to live here and suddenly he was extremely interested, attractive young ladies that they are.  At first Roger was getting stressed about Spunky's jumping the fence into the backyard.  However, we finally agreed that this wasn't actually a big problem between good neighbors.

So life with puppies once again is really interesting.  As I type this, Louise is chewing up used Kleenex.  So far Thelma has chewed up a pair of shoes, my Fox and Friends ball cap, and a brand-new bra.  I love them both dearly, but you forget how puppies can be.

I raced home from a client, a church about 45 minutes away and ran in to let all the dogs out.  Cue the music, "WHO LET THE DOGS OUT?"  I left the back storm door cocked open so our elderly Maxine could come back in as soon as she wanted to.  I ran upstairs for something and stopped to go to the bathroom.  I sat there for a minute, just catching my breath.  It was about the first time that day I'd had a chance to sit down.

I heard some dog tags and someone bounding up the stairs.  Not unusual in this house.  I sat looking out the window at  the azaleas.  And then Spunky walked into my bathroom and sat down.  He looked at me, with his head cocked to one side, quizically. 

My immediate reaction was embarassment.  A strange dog and all.  Okay I can deal with four dogs, one elderly dog that needs to be carried up the stairs at night...all 90 pounds of her.  But I draw the line a strange dog jumping the fence and waltzing into my bathroom.  It's all about boundaries.

Birthday Pitcher

I have wonderful friends.  One of the  most wonderful is my friend, Nancy.  Nancy is my partner-in-crime, my fellow lover of all things "Twilight," as well as being the Queen of Thrift Shopping.

My birthday is coming up and she gave me this beautiful bouquet picked from her yard, in a thrifted vintage (or maybe antique) pitcher.  I adore pitchers.  The bouquet has mock orange in it and it is filling my bedroom with the fragrance.