Hands Up, If You Went To An Auction This Weekend!

Well, my hand is up, and it's danged hard typing
with only one hand on the keyboard.

An auction of household goods at a beautiful home in the 

western New Jersey countryside; how could we not go?

It explains the flatware bound up 

and being held hostage in my sunroom:

77 pieces of heavy, excellent condition Community Plate, pre-1920.

(You can tell by the knife blades.  They are silverplate.
After the First World War, knife blades were made in stainless steel.)

The pattern is called "Patrician" and was introduced by Oneida in 1914.

I think it's gorgeously sleek and contemporary, even today!

All pieces are monogrammed with either "M."

Or "R."  Most have the R monogram.

Although Howard thinks that it is a "B."

We'll humor him, and say, yeah, maybe.  Sure.  It could be a "B."

Other finds?  Peek into this plastic bag;

there's a twin size older matelasse bedspread and sham.

A dainty glass compote.

Two chunky glass candlesticks.

(I am keeping them.  Shhh . . . don't tell.)

I do not know why that ten dollar bill is there.  But it is mine.  Really.

A box of old Austrian china, with two covered vegetable bowls,

and a really neat gravy boat with attached plate.

A big box of linens, including several 

banquet-sized Irish damask cloths.

I darkened the picture to try and show the tablecloths more clearly.  They are brilliant white in "real life!"

One has oddly colored flowers that look rather blobby.

This is new to me.  Have you ever seen damask colored like this?

The only furniture: a mahogany muffin stand. 

How cute is he?
He just needs a quick waxing, and he'll be ready to hold
cupcakes and scones at tea, or display tureens,
or be home to lovely cascading pots of ivy.

We also got a watercolor landscape, a print that I bought for its frame,

a small lamp, a few more pieces of vintage silverplate flatware . . .

and I think that's it!  All in all, a good haul for our antiques booth

at Somerville Center Antiques.  Now I just need to find 

some way to display everything to advantage!

Happy Hunting, my friends.

Keep it thrifty, and OLD.  :-)  Like me.  -- Cass

P.S.  Come with me tomorrow to an estate sale, where I am stalking something that Howard and I hoped to get at Sunday's auction but were outbid; wish me luck that this time, I can get the prize(s).  And don't tell Howard.  Oh wait.  He can read.  Eh, he'll forget . . . .

It Was A Dark And Stormy Night - Dining With Al Fresco

You know Al Fresco.
He's the guy who always wants to have meals outside.  

Outside.

Where bugs live, and wind blows,

and rain falls, 

and it gets dark.

Yeah, that guy.

He joined us for dinner on Sunday evening.

There were 7 of us at the table.  Plus Al, but he don't eat much.

We served grilled sausages, baked beans,
local corn-on-the-cob, grilled local zucchini, cole slaw,
and a dessert of oven-warm biscuits topped with
(local, of course!) peaches and blueberries, with whipped cream.

I forgot to take pictures of either people or food.

So all I have are some shots of the forlorn empty tables.

The weather Sunday evening was glorious,
and I figured I would take pictures in the morning.
Not realizing it would pour rain all night.

But on Monday night, I got shots of the table
with our fence lights lit.  

We haphazardly strung those lights after falling in love
with similar ones at our Hollywood rental cottage, back in April.

Howard in Hollywood, enjoying our patio.  With the ever-present Mr. Al Fresco.

Not many things translate well from Southern California to New Jersey,
but I found these lights at K-Mart, and had to have them.

I was going to do a Tablescape on Tuesday, but . . . it rained.

Kind of a lot.

This morning it was sunny and dry.
But . . . windy.  A big whoosh, and the umbrella
on the round table was lifted up, and off.  Totally.

So, things don't always work out the way you planned.
But trust me, we had fun Sunday night, and ate like wee little piggies.

The step into our sunroom, guarded by an attack rabbit.

Next time Mr. Fresco convinces us to haul
the china and the wineglasses outside,
I will try and remember to take some pictures.
But I wouldn't count on it . . . . Cass

Join me and lots of other outdoorsy types at 
Outdoor Wednesday at A Southern Daydreamer blog. 
 Click here!

When Walls DO Talk

When we bought That Old House in the Spring of 2008, 
I had two days to choose the colors for the rooms.

Me and the Benjamin Moore fan decks got quite intimate.

It is so hard to make these decisions in a hurry.

I had a little guidance from some of the rooms themselves;
they had strong opinions about their colors.

Stick with me for this story . . . there is a point, I promise!

I tried hard to get the dining room to agree to be yellow,

even painting big patches of yellow on the walls,

but it insisted that it needed to be red.

And so it was.  And still is.

You shouldn't argue with these things.

The little upstairs guest room was clearly done with lavender,

and it became yellow.  

Because it said so.  It had to be.

And the upstairs hall bath?

As we found it.

It insisted on being Blue.

But not any old blue; it had to be just the right blue.

And I found it in the fan deck for Moore's Historic Colors.

Wythe Blue.

I adore this color.  If I ever need to paint myself, this is the color I'll use.

And so we come to last week, when the bathtub was replaced.

Down came the tub walls,
revealing old, old, old, very old wallpaper.

The wallpaper was blue.

But not any old blue; it was Wythe Blue.

Even my artist daughter Anne said, "That's the same blue!"

It's a little weird, what with all the other kinds of unexplained
things that happen around That Old House, that this room
should so clearly have spoken to me about its color.

As did the dining room, the yellow guest room,
the master bedroom, and the exterior of the house.

We bought an old yellow house
that I always pictured, in my mind's eye, as white.

Yellow house, green shutters.

Two years ago, when painters were scraping it, we discovered
that the bottom coat of paint, the original color, was indeed white.
And now it is again.


Back to its original white, and its original
ultra-dark green shutters and door trim.
Yup, that's green, not black!


I wouldn't call the past colors secrets of an old house,
but I do love getting a peek behind the walls of our old house.

Have a lovely Tuesday.

We are in for wonderful September-like weather this week.

Hooray!  -- Cass

Ollie Dog, The Beach House, Weddings, And A Rubble-y Tubby

It's noisy at That Old House today.

Two plumbers are upstairs in the hall bathroom, ripping out the Jacuzzi tub and its surround,

and replacing it with all new stuff . . . including a normal bathtub.  One without those stupid jets.

It's never A Good Thing when your plumber says, "You're gonna want to see this."

'Cause you know darned well that you really do not want to see whatever "this" is.

And this is what "this" was:

See that floor?

It's a crazy jigsaw puzzle, missing lots of its pieces.

Our heavy Jacuzzi tub rested on this mishmash
of boards - scraps! - and empty spaces.

How one of us didn't end up, naked and soaking wet,

standing in a bathtub on our kitchen floor, below, is a mystery.

The good news is, it can be fixed.  

The bad news?  If you own a home, you know already

what the bad news will be, don't you?

*******************************************

But there's loads of good news out of That Old House, too.

We have house guests.  :-)

Josh and Alida are visiting from Los Angeles;

they arrived on July 25th and will be here until August 12th.  

Two of Alida's girlfriends are getting married, and we think it was very considerate of them to

choose weekends right next to one another, so Alida could combine them in one trip.

Yes, I'm sure they planned it that way . . . .

Best wishes to Christa and Tony, who were married on August 2nd.

Christa and Alida have been B.F.s since 6th Grade.

Alida was one of Christa's bridesmaids; two years ago, in June 2011,

Christa was a bridesmaid at Alida's wedding. 

Good grief.  Aren't they supposed to be all goofy and giggly and silly?

Oh wait.  They still are!  Thank goodness.

Next weekend, Alida's friend Beth marries the love of her life.

Happy times.

****************************

Would you believe that when Howard and I went out to the beach

house weekend before last, we had not been there since January?

 Sunday Morning breakfast on the deck:  local melon, strong hot coffee,

and pastries from Blue Duck Bakery in Southold Village.

Alida with a mouthful of pain au chocolat.  Or as we say on Long Island, "chocolate croissant."

And paper plates.  Classy.

(If you are in the mood for a giggle, click here for The Sadness Of Pain Au Chocolat.)

 So why have we not visited the Southold house more frequently?

Maybe it takes our daughter being home from California to get us to go?

Anne, our other daughter, is usually committed to working on weekends.

Perhaps we need new kids.

Speaking of kids . . . .

As usual, we visited Catapano Farm in Southold, for the freshest and possibly

most delicious chevre in the world.  Or as we say on Long Island, "goat cheese."  Still delicious.

The goats are adorable, and try to eat your pants, and I love watching the chickens strut around.

Catapano's goats have a big wooden play ground for fun.

This guy was hanging out ... literally ... on the Noah's Ark.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch . . . .

Remember Ollie?

Ollie was our foster boy, in our temporary care on behalf of Cavalier Rescue. 

Here's Ollie, as we got him - a bit overgrown both in girth and fur(th).

Ollie, after a few weeks at Camp That Old House,

slimmed and trimmed and rarin' to go.

And go he did, to a new "fur-ever family" in New Jersey.

Lots of older kids, loads of attention, and a happy life in his future.

Lucky Ollie!  :-) 

Sad foster family.  :-(

Sigh.

**************************************

The other morning, as I sat checking email,

a hand bearing a grape cutting came 'round my head.

Howard:  See how great our grapes are growing?

Me:  Yes, but they grow better when they are left on the vine.

Howard:  True.  But I wanted you to see them.

And see them, I did.

The plumbers are still crashing away upstairs.

Lots of power tool noises.

There have been no more "you are gonna

want to see this" trips upstairs for me.

Fingers crossed!

Happy Tuesday! -- Cass