Day 289/365 Feline Fuhrer

Sometimes at an estate sale, you find things that you never knew or imagine exist.

And you just can't pass them up.

Like this vintage (1950's?) photo.

Someone loved this kitty enough to take a portrait, blow it up to 8x10, frame it and then keep it for approximately 60 years.

I can't decide if his name was Adolf or Charlie.

Or if he goose-stepped with one paw raised, or toddled along in a bowler hat twirling his cane.

Or maybe he wiggled his eyebrows, chewed on his cigar, and hung out with Harpo and Chico.

Yes, I bought him. No, I have no idea why. Everyone needs an 8x10 of the Fuhrer, don't they?

Day 288/365 Eight Small Men

Being from Appalachia means having quilting women in your family. That means having large amounts of quilts on hand, made by Mama, Grandma, Aunt Sadie, Great-Grandma, and in this case, myself.

When living in Minnesota, this is a good thing, since it's nothing to have five quilts on the bed at one time. However, relocating to Virginia means *not* having even one quilt on the bed for nine months out of the year.

So where do you put them?

You put them here....

Because sometimes the best places come in pieces and have to be taken apart and reassembled...




Hooks, shelves and sides need removing....

The mahogany base needs cleaning...

Lion feet need polishing ( they hide wooden caster rollers)...

Skeleton keys must be fished out of the bombay drawer...

Top cap and beveled full-length mirror are removed for transport...

And whatever you do, don't lose the pegs... because the entire piece is pegged together (quality craftsmanship from 1890).

Once it's home, reassembly starts upstairs. First the base with the lion feet, casters, and drawer. Then the back and first side are pegged in and attaching screws replaced.

Then the third side...

And finally the top cap is lifted onto its pegs...the mirror door rehung...

And it's ready for...

All of this...


Which just barely fits, and it appears I already need another armoire*.

*Armoire....a freestanding closet, originating in the castles of the wealthy in Europe...one of the first exported products from America to England, due to plentiful wood in the Colonies..originally a decent sized armoire was based on the 'eight small men' system (in other words, a decent sized armoire would be able to hold eight small men. ) This system was probably invented by the lady of the castle.

Day 287/365 The Nursery

Look carefully behind the lampshades, lamps needing re-wiring, antique spool cabinet, and overflowing bookcase, all the way to the ledge of white brick (the one with the Lurch hand on one end and giant books on the other end, right under the framed Lady of the Lake painting).

That white ledge is actually our fireplace mantle (our only working fireplace in our 1858 home). Presently it has gas logs which have been used exactly twice in fourteen years (global warming being what it is and Virginia being hot as Hades).

More importantly, this summer, it is The Nursery.

Yes, our 1858 chimney has been adopted by a community of chimney swifts and it sounds like there are hundreds in there.

Mama builts a nest out of twigs and saliva, and somehow it clings to the vertical surface. They prefer hollowed out trees as nesting sites, but with so much human development the swifts have evolved to include brick and mortar chimneys, meaning primarily old chimneys like mine, since modern chimneys tend to be metal lined or capped. Metal linings mean the babies can't cling to the sides, and they slide and fall to the bottom and starve to death. A capped chimney completely blocks access.

Babies are tiny, naked and pink. Kindof like humans.

Teenagers hang on the sides of the chimneys, chattering and begging for food, preening and showing off their wings. Again, much like humans.

And about two weeks after the chattering begins, mama takes them out for their first night flight, and they spend the evening cruising the loop around their nesting spot. A couple nights later, they begin to visit other nests, and eventually a huge flock of swifts will dance in the night sky.

You may wonder why I'm delighted to have chimney swifts in our house.

First, each chimney swift eats up to 12,000 insects a day. They love mosquitoes, gnats,and other flying insects. Every time mama comes back to the nest she carries approximately 600 insects in her mouth to hand off to the babies. Fortunately, their feeding season has come after the firefly season, otherwise we'd have issues.

Second, chimney swifts are a protected species under the Migratory Bird Act. These guys are on vacation from the Amazon Basin in Peru and it's a violation of federal law to take down their nests or interfere with their babies.

Not that I would do that. I've gotten use to the chattering in the chimney - they seem to love TV, and comment endlessly on it. The dogs have quit staring at the fireplace. The cats are disgusted.

But the third reason I'm delighted to have the swifts as houseguests is mostly because I'm so damned happy they aren't bats.

***Obvious note: Except for the first photo, these photos are not mine. For one thing, it's apparent I can't get anywhere near my fireplace. Also, my house has an extremely steep roof, and I'm not about to climb it just to use a zoom lens to take photos of the swifts, who would probably swarm out and knock me off the roof anyways. Happily for me, someone else did, and I do appreciate that. And I hope they survived.

Day 285/365 Classic

Walked out the door today to a virtual WALL OF FREAKING HEAT...as in 107 degrees.

And instantly traveled back in time to 1974...




Hotter-than-hell July - heat shimmering on the road- trees all dusty- no breeze whatsoever - riding in my cousin's Chevy SS - spinning out on mountain curves - windows down -laughing at everything- and the radio cranked up as high as it would go...playing the best Southern band ever....The Allman Brothers (second only in my own personal triumverate to my boys from Liverpool).

Reminded me of a time when the South was cool, in between the Bull Conner Days and today's Tea Party occupation. Back when tall skinny Georgia boys with beautiful long hair could take a simple guitar and create magic.

When I lived up north and flew home for visits, Southbound was playing on my headset when we passed over the first Appalachian Mountains - kindof a homecoming song for me - odd hybrid exile that I was.

In college it was The Allman Brothers that I stuck on the turntable on the first day back in the dorms - just so everyone would know where I came from.

Can't remember how many times I've seen them in concert - none recently -but as soon as I heard Gregg had a new CD out, I ran out to buy it, forever grateful that he made it through the last 30 years and seems to have come out okay, unlike a lot of us.

And it was The Allman Brothers I gave to my daughter - she has her own signature song. Pretty sure she was the only newborn rocking out to Jessica.




Perfection.

Makes 107 degrees totally bearable.

Day 284/365 Who...What..Where...When...Why

Remember that old TV show "The Naked City" ("there's a million stories in the Naked City, and this is one of them...")

So here's the story of the polka dot purse, the one that looks like it should be on Marilyn's arm in Some Like It Hot. This one came to me courtesy of an estate sale, and it's just been listed, sold and shipped to its new owner. It's canvas, with leather hand straps, and a brass toggle on the top to keep it securely shut. And it has a bright lipstick red interior, with a side pocket that zips.

I imagine someone forgot to clean out that side pocket though. And they left a little mystery for consideration.

Remember this is a late Fifties purse. A time of women in high heels, sheath dresses, red lipstick, gloves and hats. A time when women didn't usually take off and travel out-of-town by themselves.

This little calendar dates it perfectly to the summer of 1962. *Not* 1963 - because only the summer months of 1962 are on this calender (versus the early spring months of 1963)and no woman would have used a white purse before Memorial Day or after Labor Day back in the early Sixties.

Especially not to go to the beauty parlor to get her hair done. Everyone sees you at the beauty parlor.

So, Wednesday August 21, 1962....our mystery lady gets her hair done, first thing in the morning.

She has someone's credit card for gas (I've obscured the name and account number), but would like to point out that this was *not* the name of the family being liquidated at the sale. So was it a friend? A lover? Someone close enough to hand over his credit card. (And apparently he never got it back). Someone who knew she needed to travel that day and wanted to be sure she made it to her destination.

And then there are scraps of paper with large numbers listed and totalled. $10,217.00 - an awful lot of money back in 1962.

And a couple of phone numbers (yes, children those are phone numbers, back before private exchanges were common). And more large numbers, this time with names.

With another scrap: "you $1,000.00 cash" and "Hall $5000.00" Remember, in 1962 you could buy a new car for around $3000, and a new home for $13,000. The average income was $5500 a year. So what in the world do all these large dollar sums mean?

Then a matchbook from Nick's Caribbean Restaurant in Myrtle Beach - approximately 6 hours by car from Virginia Beach (Nick's is long gone btw).

Our girl was nervous while she waited at Nick's - there are several matches torn out.

And a scribbled note to herself: "meek & timid.... bashful, reserved."

Wonder who she was waiting for, sitting in the bar at Nick's, smoking cigarette after cigarette, worrying over being meek and timid, totaling up figures on scraps of paper. Wonder what she needed that money for? Wonder if James knew why she needed his gas card, or if maybe she borrowed it without asking?

What an interesting little mystery.

Day 283/365 Old School Technology

A couple weekends ago we went to the annual "sale to end all sales" and found lots of "good stuff". More interesting are the items you see and never knew existed. Like the 4 foot tall set of three camels, made from actual dried camel skin.

There's more run-of-the-mill things too - like this early Sixties General Electric stereo. I've seen plenty like it - spent hours spinning my Beatle records on one just like this.

But not exactly just like this - this one is the first I've seen with a reel-to-reel built in with the turntable and top-of-the-line AM/FM radio.

What's weird is that this last weekend we went to another sale and lo and behold, there was another stereo cabinet -early Sixties again - but a vertical cabinet standing close to 7' - complete with AM/FM, turntable, and a reel-to-reel. Plus hugemongous speakers on either side. I got to watch another mom explain to her boys what "reel to reel" was. Never mind the turntable.

But this is what we actually came home with. Yes, it's even more old school than the GE set - it's a 1920's Victrola - complete with hand crank. No electricity needed.

Needle included, and one 78 already on the turntable.

Who needs an ipod?

Day 282/365 Come Back Little Sheba...

We have one of those houses where you never know what you'll see. For instance, my mom holding her grandsnake, when she's had a snake phobia her entire life. Leave it to Sherlock to charm his way into her hands.

Now Sherlock has a new sister, Sheba....

Ahem.

SHEBA!

There she is.

Sheba is a Kenyan Sand Boa. This means that if I ever make it back to Kenya, I will *not* be stepping lightly, since Sheba's cousins are over there hiding under the sand.

Sheba has a variety of Sesame-Street talents, including illustrating a sideways letter "L"....

And a backwards letter "J",or possibly a number "One"....

Best of all is her impression of the magician Houdini and his disappearing act ....

Takes all of three seconds for that.

Leaving beautiful Zen drawings in her sand.