We Are Who We Are: Hedgerow Rose

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If you are anything like me, you think flowers

make the world just a little bit better.  It's one

of the reasons I love to garden.  Herbs and

vegetables don't do it for me, but I will spend

hours babying my azaleas, roses, and irises.

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I get asked fairly often how I learned to garden.

The simplest answer is I taught myself, but that

sounds kind of obnoxious.  What I mean by that

is that I took an interest and sought out sources

to further that interest.  I read magazines, books,

and websites.  I attended flower shows, visited

garden centers, and talked to people more

knowledgeable than myself. There is also a 

surprisingly large number of YouTube channels

dedicated to gardening and flowers.

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And then I discovered gardening blogs.  While

I'm still sorting through my favorite gardening

blogs, I have found some characteristics that

my must-read list tend to share.  1) Pretty pictures

are paramount.  2) Informative how-tos are also

necessary.  3) Keep the focus on the flowers,

though occasional detours into garden wildlife 

are also acceptable!

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Hedgerow Rose satisfies all of these.  I can, 

and have, spent hours scrolling through the

lush and vivid photos.  If you have an hour

or two to spare (trust me, you'll want to have

that long to explore!), check out the blog!  It's

worth it, whether you visit for how to make

your own violet water, which roses are

highly rated for growing success, or just

to drool over the pictures.

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Also, I can relate to her - she does Grandma

stuff, too, and owns it.  We are who we are,

and I'm a 25-year-old octogenarian.

Sorry I'm not sorry.

P.S. The Hedgerow Rose Instagram feed is 

also full of floral goodness.

In Bloom

Because my garden is extra pretty at the moment.

To Marché, to Marché

I've decided to take up quilting.  Because,

you know, studying for the bar exam didn't

take up enough of my time.  Whatever.

Apparently being under this much stress 

makes you do crazy stuff, like take up hobbies

more suited to grandmothers.

{Guess that explains the smocking class I took

this week.}

Anyway, I now have dozens of little scraps

of fabric floating around my house, and I

needed to find a way to corral them.

Enter the Marché basket from The Container

Store.  I am LOVING the funky vintage vibe

they throw off.  They are a little pricey - $16.99

for the small size (13" x 9" x 5.5") - so I will

be picking them up slowly and as I need them.

But they fit perfectly in the shelves of my IKEA

Billy bookcases.

They hold my folded fat quarters (that's quilter-

speak for a 1/4 of a yard of fabric cut a certain way) 

really well. I made up little tags for them, but once I 

got them on there, I feel like they took away from 

the cool industrial feel that first drew me to them.

{with}

{without}

Thoughts?

Footloose and Fontsy Free

I have a thing for fonts.  Always have, don't know why.

I was never a journalism or design major.  I have never

been drawn to enter into print or media.  I was t-shirt chair

for my sorority, but I don't really think that counts since

I was more the business/distribution side than the design.

But I love fonts.

While trying to hunt down my most recent obsession

{you can see an example of it here}

I stumbled across some super cute chalkboard-style

fonts.  I know there are dozens of these little font

clusters floating around the web featuring chalkboard

fonts, and I'll freely admit, there is some overlap between

theirs and mine.  I think I managed to include some

different ones, though.  I especially like Roskrift, which

looks a lot like my mystery font.  Plus, all are available

for free.  Free is good.

[chalk hand lettering | janda apple cobbler | pea mee-mee | roskrift
winter mint | orange juice | pablo | simon script | return to sender]

Do you have a strange obsession with fonts like me or

am I just a weirdo?

Pass It On

Thou art the Iris, fair among the fairest, 

Who, armed with golden rod 

And winged with the celestial azure, bearest 

The message of some God.

-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

About three years ago, I dug up several irises

from my grandmother's garden.  I planted them

in a raised bed and enjoyed their blooms.

Then this year, I noticed I didn't have as many

blossoms.  They had become overcrowded and

weren't performing as well as they should.

See, irises grow from rhizomes.  Baby irises come

from new rhizomes that grow like warts on the

old rhizome, called the mother rhizome.  But

once the mother rhizome gets old, she gets infertile

and stops sending up blossoms.  She also gets

prone to rotting and pests, so it's best to dig

her up every two to three years and cut off her

wart-babies.  Replant the babies and throw mama

away.

{Gotta be cruel to be kind.}

Sometimes when you do this, you end up

with a few more irises than you have room

for...

And sometimes you end up with a lot more.

I, for instance, had 152 irises growing in a 3 foot

square bed.  Way too crowded.  Luckily, irises

make great pass along plants.  After lifting them

and separating them, I soaked them in a 9:1

water-bleach solution for twenty minutes (to kill

off any pests and bacteria to keep from spreading

it to my friends' gardens), dried them off, and

packaged them up.

Now my irises will be happier with more wiggle

room and my friends get pretty, free flowers.

{Win-win.}

Got your own irises that you're ready to share?

How about adding a pretty instruction tag to

your pass along packages? I put together some

vintage inspired printables available for download

here. Just print them on white cardstock, cut them

out, and attach to your iris bags with some

ribbon!

{Easy peasy pretty!}

#fail

 

Kiera's wearing them.

Chloe's wearing them.

Anne's wearing them.

You know who's not wearing the super chic, super

on trend nerd glasses?  Me.  Want to know why?

I'M TOO NEARSIGHTED.

That's right.  I'm too much of a nearsighted nerd that

 I can't even wear nerd glasses because my lenses are

thick and hang out the bottom of the frames.

I found this out today in the middle of LensCrafters,

just before I burst into tears when they brought out

my new $250 pair of sunglasses and the lenses were

twice as large as the frames.  That's right, friends.

My frames stuck out a total of 3mm beyond the frame.

I was not expecting this and started crying from the

shock.  In the middle of LensCrafters.

SO AWKWARD.  

I, of all people, ought to be wearing nerd glasses.

And yet, I can't.

#fail

Silver Surfer

I love antiques, and I love England. Taking these two facts into consideration,

just imagine how tickled pink I was when last month, my favorite blogger ever, 

Lauren from Aspiring Kennedy, offered up some gorgeous English silver

antiques, handpicked from Portobello Road in Notting Hill in one of her awesome

'Four Sales' {the name originated, I believe, from when she would find something

cool and buy four extras to share with the readers of her blog}.  I about died.

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I still have dreams about this piece.  Sadly, it did not come home with me.  Some

other lucky duckling snatched it up first.  I was pretty bummed, but I also reminded 

myself that if it was meant to be, it would have been.  That said, when Lauren announced

another Four Sale, featuring more English antiques, I dropped everything and sat

at my computer, refreshing like a crazy person.  And looky looky what I bought:

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SO excited.  Honestly, I wanted all the pieces, but I made myself only seriously

consider things I didn't have already/would use.  I did not own a cake serving set,

and as someone who eats cake more often that her waistline would care to admit,

I needed these.  The second these popped up on my screen, I thought "MINE!"

It was just icing on the cake {see what I did there?} when she posted the second

photo with the MADE IN ENGLAND stamp.  I already bought some silver polish

to shine these babies up nice and pretty when they arrive at my doorstep. A little
Googling tells me that they were made by the Mayell Company and part of the
Kings pattern.  They are electroplated silver on zinc, and there is also a matching
serving fork floating out there.

I fear, however, that Lauren may have unleashed a dangerous beast, because when

I was strolling through my favorite local antique mall yesterday afternoon {killing time 

before my dry cleaning was ready}, I found this:

 

$8 and a little elbow grease later, and she's sitting pretty in my craft room,

ready to hold straight pins, nails, or whatever else I have at hand that

 needs corralling. A little research tells me it was made by the Continental 

Silver Co. of New York between 1920 and 1950.  It may not be English, 

but I sure think it's pretty.