"The Lure of the Label"

When my nest became empty, 

I had to fill it with something. 

My present-day fill, 

Junk!

It is often at an auction that I get

the best deals on

crates and wooden boxes.

My daddy's first cousin lived 

in Florida so we got a cardboard box 

or a nylon bag of oranges for Christmas every year-

no wooden box in my day.

In antique stores and flea markets.
a crate like this may sell in range from $35-$50.

Wooden crates are collected now and are often 

found in sheds, under junk, under the house, 

in storage or in the attic.

Dusted off they are used as bedside tables, 

book cases, toy chests, storage and 

of course, displays in antique stores, 

booths and flea markets. 

I recently read an article entitled, 

"The Lure of the Label."

In early years, fruits and vegetables 

were shipped in large quantities by railroad.

Labels with colorful art

attracted buyers and boosted growth.

Around 1955, the wooden box

was replaced with cardboard.

Nothing can replace the character of aged-old wood, 

loose nails and water stains

unless it's the natural wood grain and holes or the label.

Now crates are produced in mass production

and sold in home good stores and 

leading retail craft stores.

Will have fun using my crate 

for display this weekend.

This is the time of year 

to get busy in the booth. 

Have a Happy Week, 

Bonnie:)

Sorry that I've been absent these days. 

I've been burning up 1-20, I-75. amd I-24.

Whitewashed or Washed White

I spent yesterday evening transforming my finds. 

A pumpkin with glue and paper and VOILA!

Beautiful on the outside, still

a Dollar Store pumpkin on the inside. 

Another pretty, topped with a bow, 

but a little rustic too.

I found this great wooden cigar box.

The hinges were broken.

It was in the 25 cents box

thrown away and discarded.

Took off the hinges, 

painted it, made it new on the inside 

with decoupage,

and now it has many uses.

Made new from the inside out. 

A canister, FREE, tried to make pretty

still plastered over and messy. 

 Beautiful on the outside, 

on the inside, still a pumpkin, 

still an old box, both Jesus would call "whitewashed", 

a glued, plastered cover-up.

Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites!

You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside, 

but on the inside are full of dead man's bones and everything unclean.

In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous

but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.

Matthew 23:27-28

Jesus condemned the Pharisees for outwardly

appearing saintly and holy but inwardly

remaining full of corruption and greed.

Like the Mod Podge box, it is for show, 

pretty on the outside, but still a broken box.

However, God can turn the heart into a treasure 

if we stop trying to cover up and let Him 

make us over from the inside out.

What are you, whitewashed or washed white?

Praising God for His Word, 

Bonnie:)

Something Bear-y Scary?

I went in one little shop last weekend, something-bears.  

Bears and the mountains must go together.  

They were everywhere-decor, not the real thing.

The owner of the cabin where we stayed said 

that bears enjoyed visitors at this place.

Well, they were not invited!

I'm sorry, but I'm not into bears or scary.

I bought this little guy.

This is as close as I get to scary.

This black thing was seen in our neck of the woods 

a few months ago. 

Here he was a few weeks ago or one like him. 

This and rattlesnakes is why I don't do the woods.

I heard that someone recently found a rattlesnake 

in their home.  The kids heard the rattlers.  

Thank God, my roof is fixed.

It's festival time here in Kaolin-country

and Homecoming tonight.

Everyone comes home, and I'm just not in the mood.

So, I'm skipping the parade and festivities 

and I'm going pickin' tomorrow. 

I've got a trail mapped out

and I'm going to to Distressed Donna's Down Home place. 

I know the general direction, but that's all.

Distressed Donna Down Home 

always finds the best deals.

You've seen one Kaolin Festival, 

you've seen 'em all. 

It's not the same without my children anyway. 

Have any of you been face to face with a bear?

Not me, never have been, never want to be!

Happy Weekend, 

Bonnie:)

Swap=Freebie

I did a little pickin' this morning. 

I swapped out a coat rack from my booth

for this chair from another vendor.

I love the burlap seat covering.

Dollar for dollar.

I call this free!

A swap=a freebie.

Agree?

Happy Saturday, 

Bonnie:)

What I Love About Being a Vendor

There are many things I love about being
a vendor in a local flea market.

One being this,

other vendors make great friends.

Meet Sue at #3 Antiques.

The idea for the name was inspired.
She said, "#3 because my daughters and me make three."

Sue and I grew up in the same church youth group.

We have since reconnected and share some of the same loves. 

 Sue is one of my best customers.

We have the same tastes.
If we bump into each other she says, 

"When you gonna bring something new?"

She buys from me. I buy from her.

Is there any other way?

If you want something from her booth, you better grab it.

I kept going back to the bench.
I thought about it.

Will it fit?
I measure.

How can I get it home?
Mr. H has the truck.

Is it practical?
Who cares???

It's G-O-N-E!
Understood rule:  If you love it, buy it!
Don't think it about it.

#3 Antiques is my go-to place.
You know, the place that feels like home.

Sue's many hobbies include junking,
collecting, spending time with her family,
particularly the GRANDboys,
and gardening.

Sue says, "I love potting and piddling.
It is food for my soul on days 
when I just need to be."

This is Sue's go-to place.

Love the screen door!

The old sink in the shed was
salvaged from her grandmother's
house when it burned.

Her hideaway holds her collection of
vintage gardening tools, old hose nozzles,
 oil cans and enamel pans.

I love the #3 metal sign.

Much of my home is furnished
with finds from #3 Antiques.

I bought the white chest and it was too small.
 I had a yard sale and she bought it back.

That's the way we roll.

I admired these two pieces and she said,
"Here, take them."

The chest I bought from #3 Antiques a couple of years ago.
It is larger than it looks, and it's perfect. I paid $65 for it.
The most I have ever paid for anything from her booth.
The table under the window was made from a vintage baby bed.

I bought a white vanity and painted it gray.
She bought a gray chest from me and painted it white.

Where did these two came from?
So that was the bump(s) under the rug!
I'll take these, please.

What do I love about being a vendor?

Other Vendors!

Other vendors make great friends.
Other vendors make great customers.
Other vendors make business better.
Other vendors do not compete.  WE compliment.

Drop by and visit #3 Antiques at Hidden Treasures.
Open Thursday-Saturday
10:00am-6:00pm.


Bonnie;)

Any Hoarders Out There?

I went pickin' at Cornerstone.

Cornerstone is the shop that I managed for two years. 

The owner left it as-is or was. 

We kinda just walked away from it. 

Done deal!  Out of Business! Just like that!

She's one of my best friends.

We tease her about being a hoarder.

She sold her house a few weeks ago.

She downsized and had major junk treasures

so she had a yard sale.

 Believe me, it looked like she sold the yard.

I found a few goodies.

Don't you love the little plates?

Only two, but a pretty add to my collection.

The silverware was NOT silver and NOT stainless
but certainly vintage.

My granny had odd pieces and so did we.

They may have come in bags of flour during 

the depression years or from the FIVE and TEN.

Probably not worth the 25 cents that I paid, 

but sure are sentimental to me. 

Come to think of it, 25 cents for all 25 pieces,

ain't too bad, huh?

 Of course, the best find was the pitcher.  

I have a similar one, but without the patina. 

This is now my favorite piece.

I sell everything but the kitchen sink, 

you know that. 

My daughter said, "Mama, don't you dare

get rid of the white stuff."

You needn't worry, my sweet.

How many hoarders do we have out there?

Fun! Fun!

Bonnie:)  

Ironstone and Primitives or Lace and Promises?

I hear the rumblings of rain.

Oh, how we need it.

I miss my children on Sunday nights 

more than any other time in the week.

So I blog and find connection.

It's here that I find the community 

that I so long for. 

I found this great book at Goodwill in Nashville.

Thumbing through the pages, I thought of Francine 

at Primitive Stars.

Meet Francine

The book is full of Primitives. 

I love ironstone and primitives and white lace and promise

so I flipped to my favorite pages. 

Yesterday I found this pretty ironstone platter 

in one of the shops.  Two platters for $4.

I love the scalloped edges. 

I recently added a stack of saucers to my collection 

of ironstone.  I will go back and pick up 

the stack of plates if they are still there this weekend. 

When the kids were little, mama always grilled hamburgers

 after church on Sunday nights.

When my parents became "little", I made

breakfast on Sunday nights. 

Feeling a bit melancholy tonight.

Blessings for a great week, 

Bonnie:)

The Whistle Stop Cafe

Mr. H says, "We're taking a day trip anywhere you want to go."

I chose Juliette, GA, 

a tiny little railroad town, 

home of the Whistle Stop Cafe

in the movie, Fried Green Tomatoes. 

Honestly, a mere stop in the road,

this is what we first saw when we first turned the corner.

Please don't tell anyone you saw this in GA.

Not everyone is "White Trash," as portrayed on 

The Jerry Springer Show.

There was not a parking spot to be found on the pig-path road 

leading to the Whistle Stop.

I snapped this picture as we crossed over the small bridge.

I have to say, a railroad town is close to my heart. 

Scouting for a location, Barbara Ling, production designer found Juliette in Monroe County, Georgia, a town that was nearly deserted. The building chosen to be the Whistle Stop Café was formerly an antiques and hardware store. It was redesigned as a cafe, with a horse-shoe shaped counter to allow for optimal camera angles.

Expecting a long wait, Mr. H. takes a seat on the bench in front of The Whistle Stop.

The food was down-home country cooking.

The tea was sweet,

and the fried green tomatoes were the best I have ever put in my mouth.

I had country fried steak, collard greens with pepper vinegar, and garlic mashed potatoes.

Mr. H had a hamburger.  The best he said he had ever put in his mouth.

After the release of the film, Juliette saw an influx of tourists and, with John Avnet's encouragement, locals opened The Whistle Stop Café, recreated to mirror the film set. "Whistle Stop Café" is now a registered trademark.

Gift and Antique Shops line the street.

As my mama would say, the town is only a "stone's throw,"

from one end to the other. 

There is certainly no need for a traffic light.

Juliette was a bustling railroad community during the early 1900s. Over time, the railroad industry declined, and Juliette was nearly forgotten until 1991 when movie producers for the film "Fried Green Tomatoes" discovered Juliette and reconstructed the existing buildings into the fictional community of Whistle Stop.

The out-house or privy stands right smack in the middle of town.

My granddaddy's was a two-seater, 

but not nearly as pretty.

A little old man, sat in front of the Opera House

and played some bluegrass music.

The door is what I was most attracted to.

There was lots of rusty, crusty,

and chippy, shabby.

I half-way expected to see a rooster cross the road.

I took pictures of all the building structures,

some probably originals and some not.

The antique shops were typical

shabby chic, a little old and new,

and some new made from old.

The Whistle Stop Cafe is 

one of the most well-kept secrets

in Central Georgia

and just a hop, skip and a jump 

from home. 

And I didn't have to rob the bank to get there. 

Gas $25

Meal $35

A road trip with Mr. H

PRICELESS!

Bonnie:)

However, there was a bank robbery

this morning before we left town, 

only a block away from our house.