vintage hairy doll face tissue holder

Over the weekend I happened to walk by a parked car where upon the dash sat something I have NEVER ever seen before: this vintage kitschy hairy doll face tissue holder. You can understand my excitement when the owner of the car came strolling over and let me take a picture of this prize. She told me she had a whole collection. I was speechless.

Now I know what I can get everyone for Christmas presents.

Just kidding.

Thought it might make you smile this Monday morning.

peter's peanut-butter pixies.

Found: One children's cook book from 1951. A picture cook book!

I had to try something out of it right away. Something easy. I didn't want to get in over my head. heehee.

So I chose...

It sounds like one of those recipes you would invent when you were little.

Before the oven.

Here it is. Peter's Peanut -Butter Pixie. It even looks retro!

How was it?

Well, kind of like a bite size fluffernutter s'more and instead of chocolate (which would have made this oh so delish) is a cinnamon 'cherry' on top. Totally weird. But I like it.

grandmabelle the strawberry queen

I have a tiny little grandmother named Annabelle. We call her grandmabelle. She has a thing for strawberries. Her small apartment is a strawberry shrine. She makes tea in a strawberry shaped teapot, serves it in a strawberry cup and she'll set it upon the strawberry tablecloth with the napkin holder painted with strawberries. If you ask her what time it is, she'll look over at her strawberry clock. The curtains are adorned with her favorite red fruit as well as the pillows, blankets, towels, dishes, some of her shirts and sweaters, her slippers and all of the artwork hanging on the walls. Countless strawberry knick knacks, always dusted, are on display on her shelves. Her purse is a lovely strawberry pattern and her little earrings? Strawberries of course. 

Yesterday she was treated to a manicure for her birthday. How do you think she had her nails painted? One guess....



Nothing like a little sunshine



I'm always attracted to that box of fuzzy chicks in the Easter aisle. I see them there, sitting on the store shelves almost like they're screaming at me, "Help! We can't breathe in here! Let us out! We just want to be free!". I can't help myself. I buy them. Nostalgia? Or maybe I can just admit that they are fuzzy and soft and I like to 'pet' them. I'm not embarrassed. You would like it to.