Antiques Shopping on the Square

We are fortunate to have a great downtown with adorable boutiques and antique shops. They are fun to peruse on a Saturday, seems I always find something I need. Like this little end table. When I saw it in the store I thought, "Oh, that would be perfect for my son's room." 

Then after closer inspection I thought, "I don't think so. This one's mine--all mine." It is a darling Perfect Sewing Cabinet that still has some of the original yarns and thread it came with. I wish I knew what was in the tray as it is driving me crazy wondering what those pegs are for. To hold a pair of scissors in place maybe?

The cabinet was made by The Caswell-Runyan Co. in Huntington, Indiana, which was in operation between 1907 and 1956.

It has clearly been painted and the knobs changed as it would have looked more like the one below originally, but I am okay with the changes. It is a great little table. I bet they sold lots of these.

In the same shop we happened to also stumble upon a china cabinet that screamed, "I belong in your dining room." I had to agree with it so the guys dragged it home for me. It fits perfectly into its new space as if it were always here.

I am finally starting to feel like I am gaining on the no storage space issue of living in an old house. Yet I wonder, is having four pie safes and two china cabinets excessive?

Olympic Dreams

Some of you will remember the post below that I wrote three years ago when we lost my sister-in-law to cancer. I am sharing it again now while watching the olympic figure skaters on TV. You see, Cathy won a gold medal skating in the Special Olympics. You can surely imagine how excited she was! In honor of Cathy's memory and her gold medal, my husband--who hates the cold more than anyone I know--has decided to take a Polar Plunge to raise funds for Special Olympics Indiana. I thought I would share the link to his fundraising page here in case some of you would like to help contribute. I promise to videotape his plunge and share it here for my your amusement. It will no doubt be worth every penny. 

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/MikeByrne/polar-plunge-indianapolis-eagle-creek-2014

February 9, 1969 – February 16, 2011

It would be easy to be angry. To dwell on the unfairness of it all. To morn the loss of a life so young. But Cathy never took the easy route. Instead she worked harder than anyone I know. Her forty-two years on this planet were not easy. When you are handicapped nothing ever is. She never complained. Well, almost never. If you knew Cathy you knew she wasn’t a pushover either.

She was, however, the first person in line to tell someone they did a good job. If I were scrapbooking or sewing or cooking she always told me that I was doing a good job and she was proud of me. After the kids cleaned their rooms or finished another chore she would inspect their work and tell them they did a good job. When her brother finished a project around the house, there she was, telling him how he did. Doing a good job was important to her. So much so that if she thought you didn’t do a good job, she’d tell you to do it again.

Cathy put all her energy into doing a good job at everything she tried. And tried she did. I never heard her say she couldn’t do something. She would only ask how to do something and boom the next thing you know she was going at it. There was no stopping her. Her entire life she studied to be able to read better. She set goals for herself and achieved them. One of her more recent accomplishments was to live independently for the first time in her life. She was doing a good job of it.

Cathy was always looking after everyone else. For twelve years she helped raise her niece and nephew, she also volunteered at the private school they attended. I can only imagine how many times she told all the children and teachers they were doing a good job. 

She was the most helpful person I’d ever met. If you mentioned you needed anything at all Cathy would be up and out the door to fetch whatever it was so fast it would make your head spin. If you left her unsupervised anywhere near the kitchen, even only for a minute, she would have the dishes done before you knew what she was doing. Then she would ask you if she did a good job. If only she knew how good of a job she did. You see, she was fabulous at teaching others. Not in front of a classroom, but by example. Cathy always showed you what was really important in life. To never give up. To do a good job. To help others. To live, love and laugh like you’ve never been hurt.

It would be easy to be angry, but instead I am inspired. If she can get up and out of bed every day while battling cancer to walk to school in the snow at 42 years old to try to read better… well, I can only be inspired.

Cathy has earned her wings and ascended into heaven. There is no doubt in my mind she was hand picked to be someone’s guardian angel. There is no IQ test to qualify to become an angel, one must only be pure of heart. That she was and, of course, we all know she’ll do a good job.

Truth is Marching

I bought this layer cake kit a couple years ago at a quilt show. It uses Barbara Brackman's 1862 Battle Hymn collection. I've rearranged these blocks twenty times and I'm still not sure. Had it been up to me I wouldn't have used the same fabric for the setting triangles as the center blocks. I think I'll leave it up there for another day or so before I sew them together. Feel free to offer suggestions.

The back of the quilt will have Judie Rothermel's Civil War Tribute fabric, which also commemorates 1862.

I am making this quilt for my son who works as a Civil War soldier at a living history park. He also happens to be turning 21 this year in May and even his momma has to admit he is probably due for a grown up replacement for his ratty childhood blankie.

(Disregard the annoyed look, he secretly admitted under his breath that the blankie's softness can't be beat.)

Dirty Little Secrets

I kinda have a thing about sewing boxes. I've always liked sewing boxes. I remember I had a pink wooden one when I was a little girl that my grandmother had painted with little white flowers. I loved that I had my very own tomato pincushion, measuring tape and other sewing notions. I later graduated to a plastic handled case that held not only those things, but my embroidery floss and hoops. I had that case for well over 25 years. Since then my stash of sewing items has grown from fitting in that small case to filling an entire room. I know I can't fit all my notions into a small box anymore, but I still can't resist a nice sewing box when I see one. 

There is something about a person's sewing box that speaks volumes about their personality. I have a particular passion for the pincushion/thread keep/box combination type. My mother gifted me with this little gem several years ago. I love it for its plain and simple lines—it says, "I am humble and down-to-earth." 

Although the same size and function, this next one leans a bit more to the artsy, free-spirit side.

It has a lazy susan top and tramp-art-style decoration that says, "I like a bit of drama."

My latest acquisition I find even more interesting. It has a lazy susan, and while it is difficult to tell in the photo, it is decorated with a gold leaf fleur de lis between each spool and on the lid. Very high-end and classy in its day, I'm sure.

The box lid even swivels dramatically to reveal a place for notions. Over all it is a lovely piece that says, "Look at me."

I have to admit I've had this for a month now, but I just noticed its dirty little secret. The top of this high-end classy piece was actually just recycled from a spoon-carved panel of some sort. 

Proof you shouldn't judge a box by its cover. How often do we make these same assumptions about each other?

On the Design Wall

I am plugging away at a quilt I started at retreat back in May. I am bound and determined to get the top finished by the end of the month. I think I'll make it as everything is cut and pieced, I just need to assemble. I am pleased that almost the entire queen-size quilt fits on the new design wall. There will be two borders - one pieced, which you can see a small section of on the right, and then another plain red border.

In the mean time my wool has arrived home from the mill--two giant boxes of it. Of course, I have no place left to put it in the studio so you know what that means…

back in the shower it goes! Perhaps this time if I leave it in the boxes I can avoid an avalanche? 

I am Alive

There are some bloggers out there that do a wonderful job of sharing what is going on in their lives. They share the good, the bad, and the ugly in such a way that it is not only interesting, but often inspirational. Hilary, of Crazy as a Loom comes to mind. She's struggled with some serious health issues, multiple surgeries, the loss of a parent, etc., and not once have I ever felt she sounded as if she were complaining. In fact, she inspires me. Yet, when I sit down to do a post about what is happening in my own life, I think I sound like a whiney little three-year-old. So instead, I take Mom's advice -- if I don't have anything good to say I shouldn't say anything at all. That's how my blog goes dark for a month. There are enough depressing things going on out there in cyberspace I figure I don't need to add to it. So if you notice me missing, just assume my life is hitting the fan and I'm hunkered down in a corner somewhere trying to stay clean. Around here, 2013 was a messy year -- I won't miss it. And given how the beginning of 2014 has starting out, I am hesitant to be hopeful.

Although I am happy to report I survived Polar Vortex 2014 relatively unscathed. The boys left for Florida on Saturday to visit my in-laws. Being sickly, I stayed behind to hold down the fort. Luckily my brother was in town for a conference so he was able to help with shoveling. I snapped this next photo at the beginning of the storm. In the end the trees here didn't fare well, but we were considering cutting down that little one by the barn anyway.

Half way through the storm I snapped this shot from the side porch; two minutes later I couldn't even see the bird house. 

By the time the storm was over another 10 inches of snow had fallen and the temperature had dropped to a wind chill of -41. You'll just have to believe me because I didn't feel the need to go outside to take any more photos! Instead I stayed inside and worked on projects, read books, baked and generally enjoyed being a hermit. I don't understand folks who get cabin fever; I'll never live long enough to finish all the things on my to-do list. By the time the guys returned most of the snow had melted. It was almost as if they planned it that way.

I can't show you the projects I worked on since they are gifts, but I can finally show you the purse I made for my mother. I am embarrassed to say she asked me to make one of these several years ago and it somehow just never happened until December.

I can also show you the adorable matching hats my sister-in-law designed for my daughter and granddaughter. Aren't they cute?

So there you have it -- an update from me. You might have noticed I've chosen a new look and name for the blog. It is time for a change. Front Porch Indiana was what the previous owner of the old farm called that house. We are now settled in here at the new place and it is time to move on. Tenth Street Textiles more accurately describes what this blog is all about.

Bountiful Blessings

I marked off another item from my to-make list this week. A wool appliqué framed piece for the breakfast room. I purchased both the wool kit and the bare wood frame at Back Door Quilts in Greenwood, Indiana.