a 'stumble of the utmost kind'...

isn't that just the dandiest thing about thrifting,

you just never ever know what might find you.

truth be told it was total crappity crap at the thrift store last night.

shelf after shelf

rack after rack

and

rail after rail

filled to the brim with crappity crap.

however as is often the way,

just when you think your chances of finding 'a find worth finding' are done for,

a little face peeks out from amongst

the forsaken and the forgotten

not just any ordinary face but quite an extraordinary face,

actually i might just go as far as to call this face 'exotic'.

yes i will.

for as i exclaimed to my mother last night, upon discovery of this little face,

and today also to you, dearest readers

"well in all my born days i have never seen such a extraordinary forsaken soul!"

she is in terribly good nick considering she has had several children

and an itty bitty baby

but best of all

she is also most handy dandy

surely, surely i am not alone in exclaiming at her exotic writing abilities.

and that is why i like the thrift store,

why indeed i am an addict,

for until yesterday i had never ever seen such a peachy nesting doll

and even more so,

until yesterday i had never ever realized

i was in need of a peachy nesting doll with handy dandy built-in blue pencil

(obviously designed for special occasion writing)

but now i do!

and that for me,

is the wonder of a 'stumble of the utmost kind'...

a 'thrifty stumble'

she is giddy with the lovely 'shout out' from Victoria and is wishing you all perhaps a nice bit of stumbling of your own this weekend, most definitely not a traumatic stumbling, no sirree! for we do not like those kinds ~ TIF

stumblings...

recently i have stumbled, several times in fact. only one being a rather horrid type of stumbling, the other two being most pleasant and one i hope to stumble upon. none i am delighted to report were the sort of stumbling resulting in a band aid...

traumatic stumbling number one:

hoppity skipping to the coop early morning i let out my chickie peas. stepping inside coop, opening up inside door i began to remove boards from nesting boxes. Little Voice is in fine broody mode so we have been monitoring her number of hours sitting in her little nesting box. i have mentioned to her daily, no matter how brilliant a mother hen she would make, those little eggs she keeps on ferreting away under her feathers are never going to be little chicks.

so as my chickens looked on with legs crossed and wishing me to hurry up, i removed one board, felt my clog sink a little, 'tis not an unusual feeling to experience in a chicken coop and therefore i paid no attention and removed the other board.

turning upon my heel, i felt an odder then usual feeling of 'give' in the ground. glancing down i saw outlined in all the dry scratched over dirt SAMUEL WHISKERS no less! under my clog, not looking good, no sirree, looking like his days were over long long ago. strangely i noted, he was completely and utterly flat. i pondered this whilst i reacted with a shrill shriek towards the shed. surely no trucks had driven through our coop to create such a flatness of him. i then wondered whilst running wildly towards my shed looking for assistance with my traumatic stumbling, if indeed six chickens sitting on a rat, could cause such a flatness of a furry critter to occur.

lovely stumbling number two:

a window in Seattle on Mothering Sunday, the window belonged to a much bigger expanse of glass in the beautiful greenhouses of Volunteer Park. this window and the nice green thing hanging so prettily has me making a mental note for the future. mental note says, our future dwelling wherever it may be will need windows of character with green things hanging in them

lovely stumbling number three:

a lovely vintage fabric and wallpaper heaven called Spinsters Emporium. oh how i love the name, as soon as i stumbled across their lovely site i wished to look inside. they have wallpapers and fabrics and courses and alsorts of vintage goodness going on. i do wish they had a club, like the old days kind of club where you could send off and for 50p get a badge and a certificate saying you were a member. i want a badge so badly saying i am a member of their Spinsters Emporium club, i would wear it with pride and note others admiring it and wondering what kind of secrety secret club it was. and only i and others in the Spinsters Emporium club would know what glorious vintage and crafty goodness lay inside of those four walls. yes, i am thinking i may write and suggest they have a club for those who feel a little weak at the knees just looking at their peachy site.

'hope to be lovely' stumbling number four:

my mother has noted to me, she has never seen the inside of our local thrift store in ten years of visiting, how can this be? we always seem to be pottling amongst secondhand goodness when they are staying. so tonight i shall rectify this faux pas on my behalf and take my folks to the thrift store, where upon i hope, really really secretly hope, that 'kind of feeling that wells up inside at the anticipation of what lies within' sort of hope... yes i hope the highest of high hopes, to do the best kind of stumbling of all, stumbling of the utmost kind, a peachy thrifty stumble of a forsaken little soul no less

she has put her folks to work in the front yard this morning, Mr Sun is out and plants need 'a planting' ~ Tif

blooming...

agreed agreed! most pants of me indeed dearest readers to not share my 'pantaloons of greatness' with you. to be truthful not a single clan member i asked late that day would record the moment for me. i am not sure if they just could not be bothered, or if they wished not to record my moment of pantaloon wearing to protect folks from the vision.

'tis neither here nor there, i will in due course produce photographic evidence of my 'pantaloons of greatness' (or as i am beginning to suspect 'glorified sweatpants') and you, dearest readers may be the judge and jury.

in the meantime can i show this pretty picture to make up for my lacking in 'pantaloon pictures'. this lovely little retro jug with the most spiffiest of rosey decals upon it, was picked up on my travels around old blighty a few weeks back. it truly made my heart sing when i spied it amongst the shelves of neglected china. it made my heart sing even more when i noted how well it suited my lovely plastic granny knicker pink flower and even kitschy-er doily which came from Spitalfields Market in London. they are now doing a peachy job of making this end of the kitchen look blooming lovely.

Mr Spring is still dragging his feet around these parts but not to worry, me and my folks have been working flat out with adding a 'blooming springy feel' out front of the shed the past few days and hope to continue doing so.

she has been told by those in the know, rain will stop the 'blooming work' tomorrow... how do they really know these things, do they just lick their fingers, pop them in the air and make it all up ~ Tif