T Y P O G R A P H Y On Dishes

You gals know I visited some high end outlets last weekend (see images of Pottery Barn Outlet in my last post). I bought  little as the purpose of the weekend was to see our daughter.  We did drop in on some thrift stores and found two Pottery Barn items. Woot. This "tea" cup was one of the finds. It was fifty cents. CC and Joe have already done one cup intervention. Guess it did not work.

The Pottery Barn coffee canister was two dollars. I will use it for coffee storage by the coffee maker.

"Honey Bunny" is a tea cup I ordered, at Christmas, from One Kings Lane. I ordered a few more for gifts. Crafted by artist Keith Bryner Jones a British ceramic designer. Each of his pieces has a word in a font recalling old type writers.

 On the next post I will show you my dark little coffee station. Prepare to enter the Coffee Cave.

♥♥♥

In Olive Out news I am now on tumblr. The link is on my sidebar. I did not need another blog but Pinterest got me interested in tumblr. Where does this stop? Anyhoo, I am stumbling through tumblr.  I will be posting other peoples beautiful images and sometimes mine there. Sprinkled with quotes. This blog needs tons of technical work that I constantly avoid. I prefer fiddling with the pretty images and writing. I need Joe to retire and be my technical assistant. The pay would be awesome. Wink.

Linking@Be Inspired

joy and grace

Olive

Pottery Barn Outlet Spring 2013

 Pottery Barn Outlet was brimming with Easter items this visit. You could not walk for tripping over a cotton pickin rabbit. I saw not one cross. The Eiffel Tower pillow cover was pretty and selling fast.

A slip covered Carlise sofa was priced for $999.00. Two thoughts kept me from taking it home. I was not driving the truck and I cannot spare that amount of money right now. But still, what a fabulous price. I will be quiet now for this photo heavy post. All images taken with my iPhone. Technically they do not allow photos. I misbehave for you my darling readers.

 I bought two Turkish hand towels for $1.97 each, on clearance, and one other small item. Walking out of there for less than twenty dollars was not bad at all.

Linking@Wow Us Wednesday's

Be Inspired

Shelley and I are traveling to our yellow house today. 
We plan to take long walks and do some tall thinking.

Olive

We Had Cake

You dropped off casseroles. You brought cake. My Texas poet and friend, Debra from Talking Trash said it best in this comment, "If I were there, I would bring you a casserole and chocolate cake, but more importantly a shoulder to cry on." You cried with us and hugged us.

That is what friends do. To say that all of you who commented, commented again, and wrote emails to check on me, when I told you Clovis died on Thursday, are friends is an understatement. I feel as if we had tea or coffee with our cake. We spoke of Clovis, our dear kitty. I told you how he smelled of sunshine. I told you how much we three loved him. You listened and that was enough.

But for me to say thank you is woefully inadequate

Thank You

Olive

P.S.  The next post will cover mine and CC's Pottery Barn Outlet visit, stay tuned. I am trying to get myself together.

R.I.P. Sweet Clovis

Clovis died peacefully this morning at 7:25 A.M. after a terrible night. He most likely had a neurological event yesterday afternoon. We did not leave him. Joe and I gave him water with a syringe and carried him back and forth from a floor pallet to the bed. He kept wanting to fling himself off the bed. We petted him and told him repeatedly how much he was loved. Is loved. Will always be loved. By all three of us. I am crying as I type this.

He was my constant companion. He slept on my chest or in the crook of my arm. He woke me yesterday by nudging my chin. It was a fine furry way to awaken. He could be grouchy but I have always liked grouchy men and I found his grouchiness amusing. He was smart. He would not walk into the kitchen in the morning until I gave him permission to do so.

Joe has been crying with me for he loved Clovis tremendously. Joe has taken the day off and we are going to drive to the yellow house to bury him in a sunny spot where he loved to soak up sun beams. Clovis would like that.

I have called CC and she is equally devastated. I still plan to spend the weekend with her. She grew up with Clovis. We got him as a kitten two weeks prior to my brother being killed by a drunk driver when CC was six years old. I clung to that orange kitten. He helped me through my grief. He will be missed more than I can say.

Goodbye Sweet Baby Boy

You were loved

Mama

~fight club~

Clovis is not happy with his mama today. He was not happy with me yesterday either. Such is the life for this kitty mama. He saw the vet, again, today. He had an injection for arthritis. We traveled to the old house to see the vet. Clovis has lost weight which is alarming.

 We think Clovis has lost weight for two reasons: joint pain and sparring with Shelley. Clovis is the aggressor. Shelley, being a youngster, wants to play and Clovis is not entertaining that idea. They will lay on the sofa bottom to bottom. If Clovis makes eye contact with Shelly-game on people. We are keeping them separate more often so Clovis can relax.

I will be traveling to North Georgia to the mountains to see CC on Friday. Joe will be home with the fight club. That also means I will be going to Pottery Barn, Restoration Hardware, Williams Sonoma Outlets and some antique malls. I will attempt photos with my iPhone.

joy and peace

Olive

Forsythia Arranged

Good morning friends. I trust you had a good weekend. Joe and I have been relaxing at our yellow house where our forsythia is now blooming. We braved the rain or were idiots {depending on your view} and went to estate sales on Saturday. We bought a rug which has created an enormous snowball effect that I will share later.

The buffet was the logical location for this tall twiggy forsythia. The rusty yet elegant vase was a gift from a stranger at a garage sale.

 Joe is making lemon pancakes and bacon for brunch. Yes, I am spoiled rotten.

Anybody else stunned at Downton Abbey's season finale?

 I could pinch Julian Fellowes but I suppose that is the reaction he is going for.

Linking@Tweak It Tuesday

joy and peace

Olive

Greasy Spoon

Local Georgia Food Story

This has been submitted to BlogHer for their upcoming ebook. Who knows they may accept one of them. The first food story is here.

Greasy spoon restaurants are abundant in the south. I have eaten in more than my share of them. One town stands out for it's outstanding greasy spoons in my memory.  I was working as a registered nurse in a small economically depressed town where the largest industry was a state prison.  A majority of it's employees were related to each other. If a death occurred in town staffing became a real issue.  The physician's assistant Mr. Mussey and  I were the two folks in Medical, not from town, and we bonded over food and the vagaries of working in a prison.

The little town had a BP gas station on Georgia Highway 15 that had the crispiest and juiciest fried chicken I have ever eaten. The cooks started frying chickens at about nine A.M. and by eleven they were selling them. If you arrived at one o'clock you would not find a chicken wing. It would be a tragedy too. I seldom left the prison for lunch but one of my co-workers would bring me food from various places in town. Hole in the wall restaurants like the BP. The food was delicious. Sometimes odd, like chicken sandwiches with the bones still in the chicken. Apparently it is a regional preference to leave the bone in their sandwiches. We often enjoyed collards, turnip greens, and cornbread just like my Granny makes.

When I resigned from my job Mr. Mussey asked me out for lunch. We drove just outside of the town square by the historic courthouse and turned into a long steep dirt drive. Back in the piney woods was a shabby old house. There was no restaurant sign but Mr. Mussey assured me it was a restaurant. I was brave. I cared for felons who were convicted of heinous crimes after all. I could eat anywhere. Once. We walked into the house and it did appear to be a dining establishment. It had a counter and a few 1950's era booths. It was drab, sparse, and there was no menu. A man at the counter asked what we wanted to drink. I asked for unsweet iced tea. He laughed and said "Everything here comes with sugar, Suga!"  Alrighty then, I thought and ordered a Coke. Since there was not a menu I suggested Mr. Mussey order for the both of us. We had a hamburger and steak fries. It was no ordinary burger like the BP fried chicken was no ordinary chicken. It was a homemade beef patty and perfectly cooked. The fries were not frozen. They were cut, fried, and possibly fried again. At the time I was enjoying them immensely and I did not determine how they were cooked. It's funny when I think of that stressful administrative job it is accompanied by memories of food. The comfort of southern soul food with it's resourceful, thrifty, and nuanced flavors. I have not readily dismissed a "greasy spoon" since then.

Olive

Vintage Postcard

"None but the brave deserve the fair"

Says my lone vintage Valentine's postcard. 

She is giving him the eye and he looks startled. 

The postcard is dated 1959.

It is centered on the dining room table surrounded by hurricanes filled with red candles.

Do tell, any big plans for tonight?

happy valentine's day

Olive

Cabbage Rose Kitchen Curtains

I made these cafe curtains from a twin sheet for our yellow house kitchen. I do not sew other than hand sewing and embroidery. I used fusible webbing to hem the raw edges. I found the twin sheet, with cabbage roses, at the Catholic Thrift Store for two dollars. My previous Ikea black and white cafe curtains were also from that thrift store. I find terrific new and vintage linens there. These curtains are perfectly imperfect and will be  fine here for a while.

The blue painting I had here did not work so I hung this floral oil painting I found at another thrift store for ten dollars. Forgive my lack of sun as I quickly snapped these images in the little bit of sun we had yesterday. It has been raining for ages here.

A view from the kitchen island. It looks as if I am running a china shop. A cake pedestal for twenty dollars anyone?

I had fun with .99 cent pineapples from our new Aldi's. I place the rinds and core in a jar with water and refrigerate it and drink the juice after a couple of days.

 I found the cafe curtain clips at an estate sale on Saturday, new, for $1.50 a package.  I left the curtains this longer length so that I can raise and lower them. We watch birds and can easily see them when the curtains are in the middle of the window. Total cost for the simple sheet cafe curtains was five dollars.

Thank you for your encouraging comments on my food story in the last post.

 I shall post another food story this week.

Clovis and I traveled to the old house yesterday and all things here are tricky. 

It is difficult to post, comment, heck it may rain in the bedroom or pantry any minute.

 Life sweet life.

Linking @ Be Inspired

joy and peace

Olive

Food and Southern Women

Local Georgia Food Story

This has been submitted to BlogHer for their upcoming ebook about food.
 Who knows they may like it. Wish me well.

The power of food and southern women has always been intertwined.  I married a wickedly charming man but he dragged me to the middle of nowhere. Otherwise known as Middle Georgia. The only job I could get and keep my retirement was as a Director of Nursing at a state prison. The tall, imposing, imperial deep voiced warden walked through Medical daily and called every staff member "Doc" regardless of their name or title. I found it disrespectful to our physician as well as to the nursing staff. Besides, how on earth did we know who he was addressing when he wanted something?

I decided to teach him my name. With cake. I attended the Warden's Meeting every morning which was a serious security meeting.  If someone cracked a smile in that meeting I would have needed a "Doc" myself. An Assistant Warden once threatened to have my car searched for drugs because I was "too happy". That's the sort of paranoid security type officials I was dealing with. I baked Warden Wilson a basket of miniature Sour Cream Pound Cakes. I sat next to him and grabbed him by the wrist and said "Warden Wilson, I baked you  homemade cakes. You can have them if you will call me by my name. Nurse Olive or Director. Pick one please?" He actually looked at me for the first time. Prisons are nothing if not paramilitary organizations and they have little regard for medical personnel, least of all nurses male or female. Warden Wilson slowly unwrapped a pound cake, took a bite and looked me over again.  He said, "It's almost like my Mama's." Which is high praise. He never called me "Doc" again. 

I submitted one more food story. 

Would you like to read it? Let me know in the comments.

Olive

Unrequited Love

William Butler Yeats was twenty three years old when he met Maud Gonne. She refused repeatedly to marry him. He felt her rejection painfully.
She is the subject of his early love poems. Yeats did marry someone else late in life and had children. His early poems are bittersweet and sometimes sorrowful.
Here is one of my favorites.
Joe should have it read at my funeral.

When You Are Old

When you are old and full of sleep

And nodding by the fire, take down this book.

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep:

How many loved loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false and true,

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

And paced and paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crown of stars.

His other poem I read often is "He Wishes for the Clothes of Heaven."

 Look it up, you might enjoy it.

tread softly

Olive

Blooming Now

I know many of you are in the midst of a snow storm and I am thinking of you and praying for your safety. Here are my pansies blooming now in various containers in our back yard. I have these positioned so that we can see them from the kitchen windows. Make your views wonderful and washing dishes becomes much easier.

Thank for your kind comments about my terrible week. I have adjusted my attitude, prayed, breathed, and realized I am not in control even when I grasp for control all the time.

happy gardening

Olive

Wire Cloche

This week has been Not So Good and Very Bad as weeks go. Capital letters do not begin to cover it. I have a little poster on the pantry door, at the old house, that says Crazy Does Not Begin To Cover It. That covers it. Instead of dwelling on the bad bad happenings let's look at my wire cloche instead. Escape works for me.

This is an unplanned cloche vignette. I had the basket urn filled with wine corks and the wire cloche which seemed not to work with much and suddenly had a Eureka moment. Add vintage clock, antler, and knot and call it done. I also evicted Marie Antoinette (the bust) from this spot.

Every item on the cabinet was thrifted except the hydrangeas which come from my garden.

Linking@Be Inspired

Home Sweet Home

Cloche Party At Marty's February 11

joy and peace

Olive

Random Hearts

What's a blogger to do who has no Valentine's decor? 

I looked around the house for random hearts.

 I found three.

The cookies count as one. 

The terrier has the most darling hearts don't you think? 

A man gave him to me after Joe and I dug through his barn for treasure. 

The kindness of strangers is always beautiful.

Linking@Wow Us Wednesday's

Be Inspired

love is patient and kind

Olive