The New Antiquarians

Hot or Not? You've got to see it to believe it. Hollister's blog here. Porter's blog here. Let me know what you think. Does it (stuffed kittys, foxies, puppers and chickadees) creep you out or make your design heart sing...wlahhhhhhhhh....?

Peggy, Timmys and Yard Sales

One of my top, top, top, bestest (word?) memories of living in the city was getting up real early every Saturday morning in the hot summer to hit the road with my BFF Peggy. We'd head to Tim's for 2 brewed coffees and smoke our brains out from house to house; searching for hidden treasures - other people's junk - our joy. Oh, it was so fun. Later in the afternoon we'd stop at the Newfie shop for Pineapple Crush or Lime Pop and Creme Soda. And then more smokes before we'd head home with our loaded trunk. These days I travel in the beach sipping coffee, usually alone....no cigarette packages on the dash..and look what I found! Shiny pewter candle sticks and a turquoise necklace to swoon over. Peggy, these photographs are for you. Thinking of you always. LPxo

Toronto Stinks: The Filthiest City in The World

So says Maclean's magazine and I've been listening to tourists. They agree. That's not the city I love and grew up in. That's not the region that I happily and safely hung out in as a teenager. This isn't the way my country is 'seen'. (not like 'dirtynam' a.k.a. vietnam) How sad for the citizens in our largest hometown. Garbage strike equals mountains of stinky trash; smelling up the streets, rats, rotting goop. (Miller, the Mayor went on CNN last week to urge American tourists to visit the city after an article in the San Francisco Chronicle made Toronto seem like a hazardous vacation destination.) My Toronto is friendly and super clean. My Toronto is full of wonderful sites and beautiful vignettes and smiling young faces. Have a great weekend. I will be celebrating B's 4th Birthday. Instead of rotten green plastic bags piled high, I decided to share some of my favorite photographs from the last few weeks; antique pure ivory domino set from Mexico, the soaking spa treatment of thirsty violets, chartreuse and dewey fern leaves, blurred Niagara escarpment cliffs, a section of my bookcase, fresh cherries and strawberry baskets and pies, a perfect Canadian garden and Miss B. Two Bags Full, LPxo (If you can stomach it, here is a photo essay on the world's 25 dirtiest cities....how's that for a thrilling weekend sendoff?)

SKF

Spoons. Knives. Forks.

Sunshine Through A Green Bottle

It struck me funny (and I even giggled out loud in a silenced, impressive 'red' room) at the AGO a few weeks ago (AGO/ago in same sentence duh), that Artists in the way-way-way-back machine did not have very interesting titles for their artworks. No guessing. If it was a girl in a yellow dress, they called it 'Girl in Yellow Dress'. If it was a boy in blue pants, they called it 'Boy in Blue Dress'. If it was flowers in a white jug, they called it 'Flowers in White Jug'. I love that simplicity. Not like today. Oh no. Girl in a Yellow Dress would be, 'Bitter Feminine Fear Amongst Desperate Lemony Chiffon'. Hope you like my new bubble bath container. I'm recycling a Grolsch jumbo beer. Can you imagine? This company started in 1615!!! This photo was taken right after I peeled the labels and washed it. It now sits beside my jumbo soaker tub. This artwork is called: "Sunshine Through A Green Bottle".

Memory Game

Remember when you'd go to a birthday party and the Mom would show you a tray of things and then you'd have to remember them all to win a prize? The Memory Game. I used to love that game. I have a photographic memory (often bad with names...sorry I'm working on that) and now I find myself creating little vignettes on trays around my home. This tray is 53 years old. It was a wedding gift for my Mom & Dad. It has many delicious cocktail recipes engraved on it. Last week Dad grumbled, 'What are you doing with our tray?' - My Mom set him straight, 'Oh for God's sake, you had forgotten about it. She's having it!'. (I just smiled....you gotta love North American women - they can speak their minds!) Next are the wooden shoes. They belonged to my German Grandmother. They are probably 65+ years old and I treasure their weathered patina and loving history. The little bit of burled driftwood was a gift from my son. He picked it up on the beach about 10 years ago. The watch is a special gift from my Editor who supported me during the writing of my novel. (to be published in June). It was hers and then when I finished the book she gave it to me. (she obviously knew me well as I eye-balled this beauty) The salt-water-taffy green petite-leaf motif tea cup was a gift from my Auntie Ruth. She served hot cocoa and fairy tea to me in that cup and saucer. (it's about 50 years old) The rock is a memento from a hike my husband and I took about 13 years ago. The rock follows me everywhere. The glass paperweight of NYC's skyline and Ms. Statue of Liberty was a souvenir gift from my good friend Kate. She brought it home for me. I adore it so much, you have no idea. So that's one tray. More to share later. O.K. You've seen the tray for long enough! Now look away and tell me what's on the tray....how's your memory?

China Mystery (1/2) Solved

Thank you so much to all of you who gave me some great tidbits about my family's heirloom china. I'm one step closer here at Replacements Ltd..

Imperial Pottery England: Harvest Pattern

I'm hoping someone out there can help me. Our family owns this china set handed down in the Olmsted Family. I can't find a thing online about it, and I consider myself one heck of a researcher. I think it is well over 100 years old. Anyone?

Summer 2008 Must Have Accessory

Liberty Post says: "Indoors or out. Don't be caught without. A 'green' kickback to the seventies, makes a return to announce that once again, this is hip and cool. No table scape will be without."

Vintage Carpenter Tools

I love old tools. The history, the patina; the story...the creations. The long hours of love making with wood and sawdust. Pencil behind the ear. Rusty nails. Cold coffee in a chipped cup. Perhaps it's whiskey I'm seeing. Cigarette smoke swirling above his head. He rolled that puff himself. Oil lamp flickering in the messy shed. Black lab sleeping under his feet. Sitting on the wobbly stool watching him work. Yes, these are the best memories. Can you remember?