10 things you should always get at thrift stores

via countryliving.com

When I was a little girl. I used to tag along with my Grandma Mary on Saturday mornings to our local outdoor flea market and we would wander for hours, like two bug-eyed kids in a candy store. Every table presented a potential treasure. And whenever she’d spot some unique, little “knick-knack,” she’d call me over and I’d carefully examine it with my little fingers, offering some curious comment. Then we’d move happily along, two explorers on the hunt for that magical “thing” that would send our hearts a flutter, a sure sign we’d have to buy it, because after all, it was meant to be, wasn’t it? 

Shopper Rule #1: whenever you discover a gem in a pile of pebbles it must be fate.

Today I thought I’d share a few gems that you should consider buying at thrift stores because some things are simply more interesting when they’re used, and plus—you can get them at bargain prices! Here they are.

via dustjacketattic.blogspot.com

1. Old/ Interesting-looking Mirrors

Gilded mirrors and wood mirrors with old paint are great finds…

2. Baskets

You can never have too many baskets, they work in every room.

This is my kitchen collection; I bought all these baskets at various thrift stores and I didn’t pay more than three dollars for any of them.

3. Vintage luggage

I love old trunks, and I’m not alone. My post on decorating with vintage suitcases continues to get hits from all over the world. There was a time when vintage luggage was distinctly Ralph Lauren-ish. But today, old luggage can be incorporated into so many different decorating styles.

via countryliving.com

via ruffledblog

Planning a wedding? Today, vintage luggage is a popular decorating prop at receptions.

4. Books for coffee table

Oh-my-goodness. Please tell me you’ve shopped for books at a thrift store. Thrift stores are a perfect place to buy books, old ones and new ones.

For my coffee table, I collect Decorating, Entertaining, Garden, Art and Architectural Books.

I also have a weak-spot for old, old books, especially when I find beautifully handwritten script like this, inside the front jacket.. I bought this old journal for $4.00 and  can you see the date on this inscription? It’s April, 9, 1828. Amazing huh? I love imagining the woman who filled these pages with newspaper clippings and poetry. What did she look like?

Besides adding these books to your bookshelves, you can find creative uses for thrift store books too-

Like these two projects:

via bookliciousblog.com

you can use the pages to create a book wreath…

Or create a statement wall that’s wallpapered with folded book pages. I took this photo at a booth inside an antique store in Roseville, California. Very cool, don’t you think?

5. Frames

these are everywhere in thrift stores. I found someone’s discarded frame that was missing the picture. But it did have a hard wood backing inside, so I painted it with chalkboard paint..Voila!

See what you can do with old frames? I hung it on the wall over a chipped, red basket after paying a grand total of two dollars.

6. Vases and Glassware

Thrift stores are a great place to find all kinds of glassware…old vases, mason jars and bottles that can be used in so many ways…Click HERE to see my post on dinner drinks with my own thrift store stemware.

photos: via inspirationalgirl tumblr.com

via mylittleapartment.blogspot.com

7. Vintage silverware

This is a no-brainer, only every antique dealer in the world already looks for old silver at thrift stores, so real stuff is hard to find. But that’s what makes it fun.

via ruffled blog

These are a few pieces I keep next to my coffee pot and use daily…

8. oil paintings or funky artwork

You’d be surprised by the interesting artwork you can find amid pure junk.

via dustjacketattic.blogspot.com

You can click HERE to see my Master Bedroom gallery wall collection.

9. A unique furniture piece to re-do

Thrift stores are the place to find quirky old chairs. Here’s a French chair that I re-covered, do you like it?

via inspirationalgirl.tumblr.com

10. collections of something you like

Well, what do you like to collect?

I think collections always say something about the collector. Who are you? What item really tickles your fancy and makes you smile and why? If you’re not sure what you like, it’s OK. Just remember that it all begins with that one, great “find.”

Keep your eyes open and be curious!

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xoxo

Leslie

 

 

Technorati Tags: ten things you should alwy buy at thrift stores,shopping,how to

How to make a moss centerpiece…

Hi everyone! Well, today it was 104 degrees here in the River City, but I still managed to get over to the store for a bag of moss for my little DIY project. Are you a fan of moss?

Every since I did the post, It’s all in the details: garden parties, I’ve been wanting to try to copy the moss centerpiece in it. Click on the title if you want to see what it looks like.

But I really like mine. Now that it’s finished, I think it would be perfect on a table set for an outdoor dinner party, don’t you think? Plus, it’s so simple.

First, I purchased a moss table runner at Michael’s Crafts store with my 40% off coupon. (Gotta love those weekly coupons)…

It’s a little stiff when you remove it from the bag and begin to unroll it.

I spread it out and laid a glass vase on top. Then I used this green tape to mark the lines where I would cut the moss. I needed a piece that would wrap snugly around the vase. (nope, markers don’t work on moss)

I grabbed whatever scissors I had on hand. The sharper the better so the moss stays intact.

Once it was cut, I stood the vase up. I tried testing a piece of poster tape, to see if it would hold the moss together, but it wasn’t even close. So I tried option two.

I threaded this thin fish line on a needle and I simply stitched the edges together. Just a few big stitches, nothing fancy.

In this photo, the vase is lying flat on the table while I go back and forth. Can you see the needle sticking out?

When I got to the bottom, I made a few knots and cut.

I stood the vase up. Then I covered the line of stitches with pieces of moss that had fallen off while I worked. I just pressed the moss on, and it tended to stay there.

Here it is with fresh flowers in the vase. As you can see, I added a ribbon to support the moss along with a cardstock flower from my scrapbook box, but you could also use a vintage brooch or pretty buttons instead.

Well, what do you think? I hope I inspired you to try something new or different today, maybe with moss, because it really is a lovely color of green.

I’m linking up with Savvy Southern Style.

Thanks for visiting,

xoxo

Leslie

 

 

Technorati Tags: DIY,moss centerpiece,garden party ideas

a few happy words about men and tears…

Let’s hope it’s true.

This morning I’m praying that never again will a father or mother tell their little, teary son that, “Big boys don’t cry.”  I’m desperately hoping that after Andrew Murray, the British tennis star, walked up to the podium following his heartbreaking loss at Wimbledon and shed real tears, that we can finally banish that horrid, dated, misinformed phase from our parenting lexicon forever.

“Tough it out.”  “Crying’s for sissies.” “Boys don’t cry.”

Oh, it makes me wince. As a retired therapist, I know first-hand how much these innocuous little phases can cause problems later in life. I’ve seen these messages compel men to hide their tender feelings and shut out people who love them because of this ridiculous idea. Believe me; this view of maleness can only lead down a road of relationship woes. 

But this morning when I glanced over the headlines, I felt so giddy and hopeful. 

That’s because yesterday the world got to see a typically stoic guy break down into tears. Only it wasn’t just any guy. It was a world class tennis player born of a brawny Scottish bloodline, who was representing Great Britain, an entire nation known for its courageous, stiff-upper-lip approach to emotional expression.

And lo and behold, he cried in front of everyone…

And the world hugged him back. It was simply beautiful.

Did you watch it?  Twenty-five year old Andrew Murray was the first Briton in seventy-four years to reach the Wimbledon finals. He was trying to be the first Briton since Fred Perry won in 1936, to win the Wimbledon title for his countrymen.

It was a gritty, courageous display of athleticism and for a few hours you felt the tension and hopes of the 15 million Britons who were riveted by this match. Would it finally happen? Could this young, talented Brit bring home the elusive title?

It was sheer excitement. But in the end, he lost. Only something wonderfully refreshing happened when he stepped up to the podium to be interviewed.

photos: www.guaradian.co.uk

And it wasn’t just his mother and his lovely girlfriend who responded to his open display of heartbreak and disappointment. Andrew Murray had been swept up by the powerful support and pride of his entire nation and when he finally tried to speak, his raw, pent-up emotions poured out.

And the best part was the reaction by other men.

Like this tweet by Hollywood’s burly, tough ‘real’ guy—the ultimate Gladiator-Russell Crowe:

“….Andy Murray, you are a champion in my eyes, one day mate it will be you.”

I know what he meant. Because afterwards, when Murray spoke to the crowd and jokingly  said “I’m getting closer,” while his voice cracked with emotion, I felt a swell of admiration.

At that moment, I think every mother could imagine their own son’s face following a heart-wrenching loss. Every Dad could envision the hours of endless practices and total dedication to a singular sport. Every person could relate to putting it all on the line. And losing.

That’s why I think we were all crying a little, inside. And I’m hoping that all the boys and men, who watched this, had a chance to realize what women everywhere have always known.

That there are times when shedding honest tears can make you feel so much better. And there’s even more. When you let down your guard and dare to show others your genuine hurt and vulnerability, people can relate to you. They can even love you more. That’s why Andrew Murray endeared himself to an entire viewing audience yesterday.

Because in the end, realness is always rewarded.

 

What do you think?

Leslie

 

 

 

Technorati Tags: wimbledon,a women's view,men and tears

 

this is what happiness feels like

I woke up in the middle of the night and my first drowsy thought was, “I have to write that down, before I forget it.”

This is my latest realization. If I don’t get those poignant moments down on paper they’re eventually lost forever. And in my dreamy state, I’m fantastic. I remember actual words and who said what to whom, and I see the color of someone’s shirt, and then I promptly fall back asleep. Only when I wake up, most of its gone again. Because you see, it’s my lucid state that gives me problems. But that’s a whole other post.

In the end, this is what I said and this is what I remember. At least the important part.

I had just walked inside to grab my salad off the kitchen island when I blurted out a suggestion to my kids. Their take-out sandwiches were still in the paper bag.

“Come on you guys, let’s eat outside. Grab your food….let’s go.” It was purely spontaneous, and I certainly didn’t think they'd follow me.

I heard faint groans behind me as I moved through the French doors and out into our shady brick patio. Their deep voices carried outside. “Oh, come on Mom, it’s so hot outside.”

via dustjacketattic.blogspot.com

They were right. It was awfully warm. It was the beginning of a sweltering June afternoon in the valley, and even though I was thirsty and sweaty, and had brown dirt underneath my fingernails from bagging leaves in the garden, I still thought it was a nice idea.

After all, this was a rare gem suddenly in front of us, a luxurious patch of free time where there was nothing scheduled. No appointments, no school work, no practices. There was only the sensation of being suspended in time. Together.

When I look back, these are the snapshots of this day I’ll remember. Piles of pillows and books scattered on the couch. Stella’s doggie toys on the oriental rug. The sounds of an action movie blaring from the television and a glimpse of our pup lying beside the boys.

When you’re a mother of older-busy-social-kids, these are moments of sheer bliss.

We sat outside under the steady hum of the patio fan while we devoured our roasted chicken sandwiches. The air was filled with the smell of freshly wet soil and yellow honeysuckle and we could see the occasional bees hovering near the vines while we talked.

“Who is the funniest person you know"?” I asked, as I wiped the sweet salad dressing off my fingers.

I saw Michael squint hard while he thought about my question. Then he told us about a guy from his Rowing team, a name that I’d never heard before. He stared into space and considered why this kid was so funny. And inside, I felt a bit giddy by this impromptu sharing.

Then suddenly there was another story. A milkshake flying though a window. And Patrick was laughing and gesturing with his hands while he described the details of a hilarious mishap. There was Ryan. And boys on a skateboard. And the next thing I knew, my head was filled with the sounds of my kids laughing.

via thebottomoftheironingbasket.blogspot.com

And for a split second I actually thought, “this is what happiness feels like…”

In the middle of my tedious garden chores on a hot summer day, I had opened up a Pandora’s box with a simple suggestion. And it led me into this, a long, meandering conversation with my boys where we simply hung out…and I listened to funny stories that I might never have heard.

Maybe it was the unexpectedness of it all.

But I think it’s these little moments in life… that remind us of what’s important.

 

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What’s on your mind today?

Leslie

 

 

 

 

Technorati Tags: happiness,little things matter,mothering

Blue and white stripes on a painter’s drop cloth: How to

I love stripes, don’t you? Especially big, bold stripes like the ones I painted on this drop cloth.

This weekend I decided to transform a simple painter’s drop cloth into a bold, colorful table covering that I could use later for a garden party. I decided that a midnight blue  would contrast nicely with the light colored canvas, and would be such a crisp, summer look. So this is what I used.

• I purchased a 9 X 12 drop cloth from Home Depot.
• Frog tape (trust me, it’s a MUST if you want clean stripes)
• small roller
• flat latex paint (I started with a quart, but I needed another one)

Before you begin painting you should know that paint will seep through the drop cloth. Make sure to put it on a protective covering. (Yep, I learned this the hard way)

I decided on eight inch stripes. So I measured the eight inches and used a blue pencil to mark the spot. I did this four or five times for each line. I cut one piece of frog tape that was long enough to cover the length of the canvas. Because I was in a hurry, I chose not to connect the blue marks and make a straight line. Instead, I just started on one side of the canvas and laid the tape down on the blue marks. This is easier with two people. One person keeps the tape taut, and the other person places the tape down, making sure it’s a straight line. Sorry if I’m over-explaining.

Here’s what it looked like when I was finished measuring and placing the tape down.

Oh boy. This is when I started to wonder if I was going to have enough paint. Of course I neglected to consider that a painters drop cloth would be highly absorbent, which means that the paint didn’t go as far as I planned. Oh well, another trip to Home Depot.

Here is the completed canvas. In the afternoon heat, it dried quickly. Once the paint dries, you simply pull the frog tape up.

See what I mean about this tape? If you push down on the edges of the tape prior to rolling on your paint, the result will be painted edges that are nice and clean when you remove the tape.

I didn’t plan it this way, but the blue and white is perfect for the fourth of July holiday. I threw up some white tissue balls and added some stemware, a few shells, plants and flags for fun.

Well, what do you think? Not bad for a painter’s drop cloth huh?

If you’re planning your own outdoor party soon and you’re looking for more ideas, you can see my table decor and menu for My Garden Themed Dinner Party HERE.

Or you can visit my Pinterest Garden Party Board to see some lovely pictures.

I’m linking this post up to Savvy Southern Style.

In the meantime, I hope you all have a safe and wonderful holiday with your loved ones!!

 

Thanks for stopping by,

Leslie

 

Technorati Tags: DIY project,painter's drop cloth,how to paint stripes,garden party ideas

today is our anniversary…

Can it really be twenty-four years?

Here’s a photo of us on our big day. This is one of the only close-ups I have of us on our wedding day, which is sort of sad, but true. All that money we shelled out to a photographer that was supposedly one of the best, and we ended up with lot of shots of everyone but us, actually together. Ah, what a whirlwind day.

I was twenty-eight and Mr. Moss was twenty-five. We had drove in from Los Angeles for our wedding because we were happily living there, while I went to graduate school and worked, and he trudged along as a newbie broker in the finance world.

We had both grown up in Sacramento, California and finally met during college while we were waiting tables at a local dinner house. I still remember the first time I noticed him.

I was sitting in our restaurant’s Back Room, the place where all the waiters hung out after our shifts while we folded napkins and counted our tips. Suddenly, I could hear a deep, bellowing laugh coming from the hallway and it was his voice. And then he was in the room, filling up the space with his exuberant energy and asking us dinner waiters if he could have any of our shifts. At that time, he only worked lunches. And I thought him terribly brazen, especially when he asked me. Of course not, I said, half laughing at his gall. I was living on my own and paying my way through school, and I wasn’t in the position to give away any of my shifts, especially to someone who seemed so brash and confident. And quite adorable, in an annoying kind of way.

But the chemistry was undeniable.

He was so damn funny. And interesting. After work, we had long, meandering conversations that never seemed to have a beginning or an end. I found these discussions utterly intoxicating, because up to this point, I had only known men of the strong and silent variety. So I simply loved the fact that he talked. A lot. About everything.

We both came from a family of brothers. We argued about politics and religion. We had both read Siddhartha. He called me “little girl” which I hated, because his girlfriend at the time, was a glorious five feet nine inches tall. We left little notes on each other’s cars. He wrote me a poem and we talked about our dreams, and traveling and someday swimming the Nile.

Only he wasn’t ready to break up with his girlfriend when I was ready. And much later when he was ready, I had a boyfriend. It went on like this for awhile and we both got hurt.

He came looking for me one last time. We had stood in the pouring rain in a field on Fair Oaks Boulevard and he had demanded an answer to his “now or never” question, otherwise, he was heading to Los Angeles.

And when I said “no,” he really did leave.

In the end, the thing that haunted me was the possibility of having regrets. I simply never wanted to wonder, “What if?”

So I packed my bags and headed to Los Angeles to be with the one guy that my family disapproved, because it felt right. I had absolutely no evidence that it could work because we hadn’t actually been a legitimate couple before. Ever. Our relationship had consisted of being one long flirtatious affair stuffed in-between our “real” relationships with others, and it had left us both with questions.

In retrospect, it was a huge gamble.

But here we are. Twenty-four years later. Yikes. That makes us sound so old.

In fact, these days when Mr. Moss calls me “little girl,” I actually laugh. Mostly because I know he’s the ONLY person on this earth who would possibly refer to me, at my chronological age, as a ‘girl.’

Which makes him a one-in-a-million guy (well, actually one-in-seven billion). But I always knew he was something special. This post is for him.

Honey, I always knew it was you.

Happy Anniversary

I love you,

R/C-^

 

 

 

Technorati Tags: husband,anniversary story,love and marriage