Vintage Thursday: Pretty little things

A few weeks ago I found these two lovely liqueur glasses. They're so pretty and quite heavy for glassware. I have no idea who made them. They are clear glass with a flower design and have gold on the flowers and around the rim of the glass. The gold on the rim is almost worn off. I"m trying to find some information on them, so if anyone knows anything about them I would appreciate hearing from you.They look like they're all one piece, but there is a seam on the stem and down through the bottom.. The glass has a few very small bubbles in it. There were only two of them and they were only $2 each.

This small pitcher is another find and has the same feel as the glasses. This is probably pressed glass because I can see lines. The gold covers the upper part of the pitcher and is in fair condition. I don't have any other pieces of this kind of glassware but I think it's beautiful.
I have a collection of depression glass and a book on all the different kinds. This pitcher and these two glasses are not in the book. I don't remember what I paid for the pitcher but it wasn't expensive. These are heavy glass that has been used alot. They're not fine crystal or delicate., but they are very pretty. I love using them and do as often as I can.

To find more vintage things go to Colorado Lady and check out all the vintage loving people.

Wordless Wednesday: Creepy Crawler

Brownie has Something to Say

It has come to my attention, here on Three Dog Farm, that out there in Blogland are a lot of folks who look at Blogs but never comment. These people are referred to as "Lurkers". They even call themselves lurkers and I have been choosen to say a few words about this.

The other goats and I work very hard, all day. We have bushes to eat and grass to clear. This is our job and sometimes it's thankless, but we do it anyway because we are goats and this is what we do. When we do a good job, we like a special treat or, at the very least, a pet on the head. When we do a good job and no one says anything, we feel like no one cares about what we do and that's not a very good feeling.
So the next time we do something that you think is especially wonderful, leave us a note on Farmlady's blog. We love comments about what we do here. You don't have to leave us a message everyday. We understand how busy your lives get and we don't expect you to drop everything for a few old goats, but once in a while, when you have a moment and like what you see, send us a comment. Tell us what you think. Dont lurk in the shadows. Share the goatyard with us and bring us a cracker. We will answer any questions you have and we will be much happier goats. Thank you.

P.S. Farmlady wants to thank Janette at Ground Level in Kansas for a blog award. Jannette is a reformed lurker. Farmlady said that she will write about the award tomarrow. We also want to thank all our loyal readers who do make comments about us. Farmlady says that you "make her day".

Goat story

I knew something was going on when I walked over to the gate. Brownie had that look in his eyes and he was walking with an attitude. His ears were up and back a bit and I just knew he was looking for trouble.
Murphy and Freckles sensed it first and Murph' tried to defused the situation by inviting Brownie into a short game of head tussle. It seemed to be working, and I thought that Murphy had calmed the brown goat down some. Freckles, who always seems to be a calming influence, was unable to get any eye contact with Brown and so he just went over in the corner and waited.

Pretty soon the whole atmosphere changed. Chaos reigned. First the sky seemed to change to an almost yellow and the tension was electric. It seems that Murphy HAD taught all the other goats how to "dance" when they were younger, like I had thought, only this dance was newly choreographed. Each goat had his own style and they all wanted to outdo each other. They reared up on their hind feet and with ears flying, they each angled toward another goat and then came down head to head , in a strange dance of dominance and power. I heard grunts and words like "reach" and "twist", and a strange word that sounded Galic; something like "gowith". I think Murphy was calling the moves.
At first I was concerned that they would hurt each other. Then I realized that they were stopping short of actually hitting each other. They would put their heads together side to side, and push on each other like wrestlers do. It was like they all went a bit crazy, thrashing about almost in a trance, and moving to a song I couldn't hear. Up on their back feet, reaching high, now down and twisting toward each other, touching heads, pushing hard, and then again. Repeat.
Repeat. What in the world had they eaten? A strange weed? A TOXIC plant? What if they were reacting to the new hay or vitamins changed recently. I better go get the prospector. We could loose these guys. I left my camera hanging on the outside fence and ran into the house.
The prospector was reading and looked up. "You've got to come out and watch the goats. Something is going on and they're acting weird." I said.
"Weird?"
"Ya, they're dancing and jumping around like they're posessed. Maybe they ate something bad or the new hay is not good for them. I don't know. Just come and look at them."
We ran outside and over to the fence....
Now, I don't panic easily and I've even been know to underestimate a situation that turned out a lot more serious than I had thought. So when I get excited about something it's usually warranted.
The Prospector laughed. "Ya, the goat boys are really goin' wild here."
All four goats were drinking some water and then they stopped and looked at us.
"But..., you didn't see them. They were going crazy. Dancing and jumping all over the place." I said. " Even the sky changed color."
"What? The sky changed color? He laughed again. "Maybe YOU ate something you shouldn't have. They seem just find to me." He said that he would check them later when he fed them before dark. Then he went back to the house.
I took my camera from the fence and looked at the goats. They were watching me and they had the most relaxed, lanquid look on their faces. "What happen to you guys? What was that all about?"
They just watched me and Freckles rubbed his mouth on the goathouse door.
"You gonna tell me what happened, Freckles?" No answer.
"I got this all in my camera, you know." ... No answer.
" Was this some kind of goat ritual that goes back to ancient times or are you just practicing to be grown-up goats?"
No answer.

I know what I saw and heard. Sometimes these goats can be strange, almost other-worldly. They know something. I sense this like I do with the dogs.
Maybe I need to call some friends and do lunch or go shopping. I need to get out more. Life is revolving around these critters way too much and I'm getting a bit strange myself, like my grandma did.
But,I know what I saw...., and the sky did change color. I think.

As I walked away, back toward the house, I heard one of the goats say something. It was probably Brownie, mumbling under his breath. I think I heard, " She's on to us, boys."
I turned around and said quietly,"I am Brownie. I know things."
...,and he replied with a low bleat and a smile.

The Edge, a poem

The Edge

This sky pulls me
From the comfort of shelter
To stand on the edge
Of my garden.

Before me
Darkening clouds move,
as dust storms billow,
completely filled with rivers.

Darker, it comes

Bringing rain closer.

What calls out as wind,
a voice, shouting.
Nature's absolute spirit
swelling the air with drizzle, splash, flow
As I watch from the edge.

~~~

c.c. 2009

Happy Anniversary Blog; about a week late.

I have been blogging for a year now. My first post was on Jan 30, 2008 and there were no photos because I didn't know how to post them yet. My post read:

"I'm sure that I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm also sure that this is the start of something wonderful. A place of expression and understanding that will be here for myself and others. This will be 42 acres of words, poems and photos that tell the story of one person and her belief that she has something to offer others. She would like to share how she sees the world with whoever will listen."

This post is my 310 th. and I thought I would add a few of my favorite pictures to celebrate the day. There were so many wonderful memories and if I ever figure out how to post more than 3 photos on each post I will become a totally satisfied blogger.

I wasn't sure what I was doing when I started all this. I just knew that I wanted to write about and photograph my world so that I would have a journal of parts of my life that I could share with friends and family. I realize that my obsession with photography has become a very large part of each day and that these photos fuel my writing. I think the photos make the writing more interesting .
I've made some new friends around the U.S. and broadened my knowledge about people. I've learned from a wonderful lady in Pennsylvania how she bares the pain of her childhood but continues to life a life for others who suffered too. I met a woman in Georgia who sent me a bag of grits wrapped in duct tape because I had never tasted them. I've meet women who are amazing artists and share their beautiful gift with others; whether the gift is art, poetry, gardening, farming or creating a lovely home ...,women who love their life, their families and God. Women who struggle with the same problems as I do and try to make sense out of this "...one wild and precious life".
Blogging is a really odd word( I like "life journaling" or "life netting", but I think the word "Blog" is here to stay. Some people laugh when they hear that I do this, but those of us who journal each day and take time to leave a comment, or two, that might help someone or give congratulations, or support a persons effort, understand. This is a labor of love. You have to care about others , have a curiousity about life, and want to, as one of my friends has on her sidebar..."Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart." (w. wordsworth).

In my second year of posting I hope to met more interesting people, write more poetry, learn to LINK( I'm clueless ), post more than 3 photos at one time and continue to enjoy this time-consuming obsession that has become a part of my life.

Vintage Thursday

After weighing in at Weight Watchers yesterday( yes, I have lost 19 lbs.) and losing one more pound, I celebrated by going to one of my favorite thrift stores in town. ( Can you believe it Sis, I consumed half that box of See's candy and still lost 1 lb.) This must have been my LUCKY day because I found 10 silver spoons in a zip-lock bag for $6.00. Can you believe it? Most of them shined beautifully with some silver polish and a little elbow grease. The one on the right was in the worst shape and didn't have much silver left on it . It was very tarnished. I can use it for digging in the creeks around here for gold bearing gravel. (Yep! I only use the best equipment on my quest for California gold.)

These are two of my favorites. The left one, with the "B" on it, doesn't have any mark on the back. I love initials on silver. It makes the piece so personal and you know someone probably had lovely place settings of these to fashion a beautiful table for some long ago celebration.
The spoon on the right is my very favorite. It's so delicate and has the mark 1847 Rogers Bros.A on the back. I could see my grandmother serving tea or coffee with this one, and maybe a few Italian cookies.

I don't crochet, so I have undying admiration for folks who do. This piece is large; about 20 inches across. It's off-white, trimmed with a dark blue edge. There are two or three small ,but pale, stains on it. They're not too noticeable and only near the middle. I will try to wash them out. I would probably have a plate or something sitting in the middle anyway so I'm not too concerned about these small discolorations.
I have no idea what the little scrunchee thing is for. It was attached with the tag. Does anyone have a clue what this might be?
The store was having a "yellow tag sale" and the $4.50 price for this lovely handiwork was 50% off so it was only $2.25.

I JUST LOVE THRIFT STORES!!!!!

Wordless Wednesday: "Heaven touched Earth"

This photo...

plus this photo...

...equals this collage.

"Heaven touched Earth" ~c.c.~ , collage using Picassa 3. photo manipulation.

Clouds and Sunlight

These are pictures of my sister and I. We used these sweet stand-ins to show the story of my sister's ordeal. Sis is not going to be photographed for a while, by her request. Both little dogs were given, by me, to her many years apart. The little puppy is her's from many years ago when (as a little girl) she found it in her stocking at Christmas. The yellow hound was brought to the hospital with me when we picked her up after the operation; a week ago last Friday.
Sis was released from the hospital two days after she had a Craniotomy to remove a tumor from the left-front of her brain . They do not let you stay long these days and want you up and walking around if at all possible. She had a half-circle scar from the top of her forehead to her left ear and her left eye was swollen shut and very black and blue. She had a horrible headache and couldn't talk too well. The doctor wanted to know if there were arrangements for her to recouperate with as little noise or disturbance as possible; especially in the first 48 hours. So we decided that the best place for her was her condo in Pacifica and that's where she and I went for a week. Her husband came everyday with food, get-well cards and flowers from friends and family.
The first 48 hours were scary and I was reminded, again, how much our bodies can suffer recovering from modern medicine's ability to keep us from death.

Each day was long and nights even longer for Sis. The pain was extreme until about the 4th or 5th day. I fixed her food and made her drink WATER. I made her as comfortable as possible. She slept a lot the first few days and then..., slowly, she felt a little better. I read her a Mary Oliver poem on a card I made for her and waited for the clouds to lift.

By the 7th day Sis was doing so much better. Her eye was open and she could see out of it but it still didn't work with her right eye,yet. That will take more time. Her headache had subsided and she ,generally, felt better. I drew this picture of her on the kitchen blackboard with the beginnings of a smile. The clouds disappeared and the sun showed it's reflected light across the room from the suncatcher in the window.
On Friday, we packed up and went home. On the way we stopped at the hospital to have the stitches taken out. All went well and the doctor said a biopsy showed that the tumor was, definitely, not malignant. Such good news. Such very, good news.

We returned to Sis's house, in Lafayette, 9 days after the operation. It was filled with people and dogs, movement and noise. (This is what LIFE sounds like.) Everyone was glad that she had returned and, even though she was tired, she was glad to be home.

Life changes. What was normal is, now, a different normal. and , as Mary Oliver says, each of us "....just happens to be where (we) are in the universe...".
I believe that we all have a purpose; maybe more than one, and with good intentions and a kind heart, we will do the thing that needs to be done..., and life will become less a mystery.

So, as I drove home, yesterday, I thought again of the words in the Oliver poem and I finally cried tears of relief for my sister.
"...good morning, good morning, good morning.
Watch, now, how I start the day...
in happiness, in kindness."
and with a great sigh of relief I added..., in thankfulness.

To my friends and family

Sometimes we just have to believe
that someone, somewhere
is in control.
Then
we pray,
for a life free of illness to return
for a while
surrounded by sureness,
warm blankets
and dogs.
~~~

( My sister had a 5 hour operation to remove a tumor from the frontal lobe of her brain this morning. She is in recovery and doing well. I thank everyone for all the kind thoughts and prayers that you emailed and phoned to me. I'm so touched by the goodness of the human heart.)

Two Things

Dear Mr President, This is a wonderful day. May this country be the shinning example, to the world, that you will help it be.

My Dear Sister, Everything will be ok. I love you and I'm right behind you.

(Tomarrow my sister is going to have a very serious operation. Please say a prayer for her.)

He Had a Dream

Do you think he knows what will happen tomarrow?

What We Must Learn

"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body,but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming-----WOW--What a ride!"- Author Unknown



(grandson on his second birthday~2008)

I have been tagged

The term Internet meme (pronounced /miːm/) is a new word used to describe a catchphrase or concept that spreads quickly from person to person via the Internet.

I have been tagged (that's internet talk for chosen.) by Laura ~peach~ from Georgia (peach867@yahoo.com) to do this and pass it on.
The rules of this Meme are: 1. Go to the fourth folder on your computer where you store photos. @. Select your fourth picture (no exceptions). 3. Post the picture with a story and a link to the person who tagged you. 4. Tag 4 people to do the same.

Well Laura, this is not a photo that I would have choosen to place on one of my post and talk about because I didn't think it was a very good photo and I really didn't think anyone would be interested in one of my querky habits...., which would be going outside late at night and taking pictures. I always let the dogs out with me. I'm not so sure that they would protect me from dangerous monsters, but they would probably bark and then I could, at least, try to run back inside the house. So far I have never had any scary moments, except the time that I scared myself by setting off the automatic lights above the garage with my movements. I almost had a heart attack. Sometimes you can be so startled by something, that you know is there, but scares you anyway.

This photo was taken very late one night. The dogs wanted out. I realized there was a lot of natural light out there and I decided to take the camera and see if I could get any "full moon" photos. I put the camera setting on fast action because it opens the shutter longer and I took about 4 0r 5 pictures. This one was the most interesting, so I'm glad it was the 4th photo, because the feeling of it is rather ethereal. The dying Mexican Sage and the tall Italian Cypress are like ghosts against the pitch black spread of darkness behind them. The small windmill seems larger against the black background.
It was quiet, except for the jingle of one of the dog's collars. The camera shows darkness but I could see up into the hillside and there were small flashes of light that would come and go. These are the deer's eyes moving cautiously above the road, waiting for the human interloper to leave; to go back into it's own place. At night it is their world and , as always, I am the intruder. They watch and listen and they quietly wait for what they fear to retreat.
How I wish I could be apart of their world for one night. Seeing what they see. Hearing what they so quietly listen for...., to understand, more, what these creatures are like. There is always this overwhelming urge to walk out into the hills at night, especially when there is a full moon.I'm always drawn to the darkness behind the light. I always have been.

This is where I'm suppose to tagged 4 other people to pick their picture and tell a story about. I would love to send this to Carol in Sacramento and Donna in Montana because they appreciate photography so much and would have something to say about their photos but, alas, they are not Bloggers and I can't "tag" them.
So..., I will pick Jan of Little pink Houses (pinkhousepages.blogspot.com) just because I like to bug her and Nina at Ornamental (ornamental.typepad.com). Although Nina is always very busy with her beautiful jewelry I would love to see what she would write about the 4th photo. That's it..., because I just don't know who else would want to do this. If anyone would like to be "tagged"..., Your it. Let me know if you do.

Vintage Thursday

I collect McCoy pottery. The first McCoy pottery was established in 1848 in Putman, Ohio. Later Putman became a part of Zanesville. The company goes clear back to 18o6 when a redware potter used red surface clay to produce household items needed by the settlers. They started out making crocks, jugs and jars from clay in fields and then small factories started production. When W. Nelson McCoy and his uncle started making quantities of products for the local market and colored some of their pottery, business boomed.
A lot of the early pieces are not marked. Some only have numbers. Without a book to help identify each piece it can be very hard to tell if each piece is "The real McCoy". I always hope that there is a mark on the bottom, but when there isn't I rely on my McCoy pottery Encyclopedia to identify each new piece.
I'm limited, by space in my house, as to how big my collection can grow. Over the years I've collected only off-white and shades of green which I just love. I have a few beautiful pieces that are in other finishes that I just couldn't live without and are wonderful additions to the collection, but I always go back to the off-white and green.
There are thousands of pieces in the book that I have never seen. Some are really ugly; like black Seagram's ashtrays, buffalo caddies and W.C. Fields decanters. Some are the same mold but in lots of different glazes. Some are bizarre and some are astoundingly beautiful. You have lots of choices. The prices were high a few years ago and recently have gone down.

I love the finishes that are matte more than the shiny ones but most of the pieces that will hold food or water are shiny.. Some of the greens are different shades and there are usually flaws in the glaze or workmanship. It's kind of a Wabi Sabi collection. Some are just old and well used. I love that they lived lives somewhere else and ended up here.

I have to find creative ways to display this collection. This group is in the kitchen ,on the top of my cabinets. It looks good but it's hard to keep clean. When the dust starts falling on us and I can see a brown edge on the pieces, then I get motivated . It needs a ladder, good balance and a dust cloth and..., I'm getting old. Needless to say, it doesn't get done too often.

Wordless Wednesday: Point of View