Thank you, Carmen !!!

from Carmen to Rachel
Originally uploaded by Grouchy Muse.

I don't usually go in for multiple exclamation points, but I think this situation called for it. I finally opened my Vintage Swap package from Carmen, and I was thrilled to find so many wonderful things, all selected with obvious care. Check out the fabulous plastic baby hanger! The wonderful little glittered Halloween tags! The pretty strawberry pin cushion!

She also included vintage greeting cards, which I love, and some vintage buttons, ditto:

This last thing is my favorite. A wonderful little metal sewing kit with a drawing on the front. I'm going to have to hide it from Mary.



Thank you so much for everything, Carmen! I feel very fortunate to have had such a great swap partner -- fun, nice, and with excellent taste! What more could a person want?

a little white lie

Today I successfully deflected a solicitor who came to our door by pretending to be the maid.

I don't do that very often because I don't really like to lie, but I prefer lying to talking to strangers, especially the kind who come to my door with a determined glint in their eye and a cheery "hey, how you doing?" that tells me that there's no way they're leaving my house without a check in their hand. The fact is, I do look like most of the maids and nannies in this neighborhood; jeans and t-shirt with formula stains, messy ponytail, no makeup -- and, of course, the whole "being Mexican" thing.

The developer who bought Mr. Troxler's house next door told Bill on the phone that he'd been meaning to drop by and say hi, but he's never seen anyone at home but the housekeeper. Which -- duh -- is me, apparently the only Mexican in Brentwood who isn't actually getting paid for cleaning the house and taking care of the children.

I can never quite figure out whether or not I'm offended by this. I don't think I am. But I think a large part of why I'm not offended is because it works to my advantage so often. All I have to say is "I sorry, she no here right now" when someone asks to speak to the lady of the house, and I'm off the hook.

The person who came to the door today didn't even bother to say "Okay, thanks" or "Do you know when she'll be back in?" She turned on her heel and flounced away without a word. Which makes me feel entirely justified in lying to her, since she was clearly a bit of a jerk.

James and Me.

Oy! I'm a Bad Blogger

And also a bad Vintage Swap -per. But I've finally finished my projects and they're ready to be sent off as soon as the rain stops. Los Angeles natives are big weenies when it comes to rain.

I've been buying a lot of vintage fabric on eBay these days, which is great, except for the occasional piece that comes out of the package smelling like it's been in a smoky bar all weekend. The absolute worst: cigarette smell covered by Febreeze smell. The two smells together are just not -- not good.

I object to the smell of Febreeze or (just as bad) heavily scented dryer sheets more than the smell of smoke, actually. The smoke brings back good memories of college at least.

California Coolers and Virginia Slim Menthol Ultralights, 1985 - 1986
Beer or wine, clove cigarettes, 1986-1987
Scotch and Dunhills + cigarette holder (I know, I know), 1987-1988
Beer, scotch, Camel Lights, 1988-1989

I started smoking because I needed something to give me confidence while I stood around at parties with nobody to talk to. I stopped smoking because a friend of mine said, "I can't help noticing that you don't inhale. That's good. That's probably better for you." I knew then that I wasn't fooling anyone, except myself. I thought I was inhaling.

My new favorite flea market ...

... is definitely the one in Ventura, held at the fairgrounds. It's right by the ocean, so there's a lovely breeze. The prices were excellent (by California standards, anyway) and there were a lot of mom-and-pop style vendors along with the usual selection of flea market pros and sellers of bungee cords.

We took a break halfway through to sit on the grass by the water and watch the surfers. My knowledge of surfing begins with "Gidget" and ends with "Lilo and Stitch," but Bill explained the difference between long boards and short boards to me; he's a "beginning/intermediate" surfer, which means that he can actually stand up on the board.

So, one of the reasons I forced the family to spend this year's vacation driving around New England was because I had these wonderful dreams of finding treasures in out-of-the-way junk stores and flea markets. I've already promised that next year we're spending our vacation near a beach and that no one will be forced to wait in the car while Mommy goes shopping.

I love old sewing baskets with old notions in them. I got this basket, plus the great barkcloth pin cushion, at a flea market in Vermont.





I found this batch of old fabric scraps in Vermont, too:



This fabric came from an antique mall type place in New Hampshire. The place promised three floors of antiques and collectibles, but was just about to close when I arrived. The proprietor asked me what I was looking for (a question I hate, because I never know what I'm looking for), and I answered, "Uh ... old fabric?" He shoved a pile of old barkcloth at me and said, "You can have all of this for five bucks." It was kind of cute, and I felt rude saying no, so now I have a ton of it. If anyone would like some, please let me know. I'd be happy to send a piece to you.



The cute framed collage/applique type picture and the stuffed dog came from an antique store in Great Barrington, Massachusetts. The picture is going up in the playroom. The stuffed dog is moth-eaten, but his face was too soulful to ignore.





I found these last two things in a shop in Gloucester, Mass., which is also the home of Turtle Alley, which sells delicious pecan, cashew, and almond turtles covered in white, dark, or milk chocolate, among other things. It's another place we found from a write-up in Jane and Michael Stern's book ROAD FOOD (which has been one of our primary guides to travel in America).

These two pairs of pillowcases need a good soak but are made of a beautiful, thick old cotton. One set is trimmed in what might be hand-done broderie anglaise. I love old bed linens, although these will probably need to be handwashed and air-dryed, which is probably beyond my Erma Bombeck style housekeeping capabilities.



I love this little guy. I know exactly why he appealed to me -- because he reminded me of some of photographer Davina Zagury Feinberg's images of old toys (click on "Reminisences," then on "Dolls and Toys").