‘pressed while netflixing…and waiting for baby’s any-day-any-week-now-arrival!
After one has spent enough time at any piddlin’ outpost, there may often be a need to take a break to allow for booths to be refreshed + shook up a bit before returning to successfully uncover more spectacularly long-awaited finds once again.
Put simply –it never hurts to give a place a rest–
I’ve been looking back through some of my photo archives + came across these fun piddlin’ sights from some months ago (could it have really been over a year?) + it may be time to circle back for a fresh look!
…I always say “nothing haunts like the antiques we didn’t buy”, so when some fabulous find once seen is still there after a hiatus, it’s a sure sign it belongs with you! Otherwise… all you have are the snaps you take while speed pickin’. I’ll be honest, there are more than a few things here that will be haunting me for a little while longer.
What a bummer it is to miss your chance to snag a fun find + oh,
how it feeds the frenzy of a good pick to come!
Last week was my birthday + I’ll admit, I am still recovering from quite the “fun hangover”. We had intentions to swing through a few new piddlin’ stops as we’ve done on many such occasions before, but we were unexpectedly taken by the beauty of the Atlanta Botanical Garden’s Chihuly exhibits followed by some of the most breathtaking antique inspired pretties I have ever laid eyes on.
My husband described my love of old things to a local florist last week + this is what they came up with–the mind reels just thinking about the first moment + each thereafter I laid eyes on this birthday bouquet from my beau. They were such a sumptuous surprise + far beyond anything I could have possibly dreamt of receiving!
Do you ever find that your love of old things translates to other parts of life, like they did for me with these flowers?
Always in the days immediately following my birthday, the anticipation of football starts to waft in the sultry summer air + my mind is swept up in autumn daydreams. This morning, my little piddlin’ partner + I conjured up-perhaps a bit prematurely- some pumpkin spice pecan muffins that I came across at Williams Sonoma. Even if it is still 90* outside, fall fever is quickly catching in our home!
Enjoy a few images of some of my Fall favorites to inspire your own seasonal daydreams!
Prime piddlin’ weather is coming; I feel it in my bones…
Check out the cool “antichita” shop we found on the streets of Rome! The smell and feel of the cluttered piles of one man’s junk made me feel right at home. Unfortunately there wasn’t anything that we felt drawn to lug back home through customs in our bags but I knew I had to share this awesome find with my piddlin’ friends the moment I laid eyes on it! Add another pin to the map!
Okay- now take a look at my favorite little gelateria in all of Italy.
This is the first place I tasted authentic Italian gelato…and it started a serious love affair. My first order (to overcome what seemed to be an incurable jetlag on our first day in Roma): “mango” with “crema” and it came with a delicious wafer to boot! I found myself looking for more mango gelato at every stop on our trip -no, really- everytime we passed a gelateria, I asked Ryan…do you think they have “mango!?” and then I would usually have to settle on another flavor. It goes without saying that I also made sure to get back for more mango upon our return to Rome, as no flavor in any of our other stops seemed to satiate the craving I had for this utterly fresh flavor of the first mango fruit gelato. When we finally got back around to this side of Rome, alas, the mango was gone, and I enjoyed stracciatella instead. WOW- here is a quick description of this amazing flavor thanks to a quick wiki search: “In Italy, Switzerland, Portugal, Greece, Spain, Croatia, Germany, Slovenia and the Netherlands, gelato with a vanilla base and chocolate shavings is also called stracciatella. It is somewhat analogous to chocolate chipice cream in North America though the chocolate is intended to be less chunky and more integrated with the gelato. It was invented in 1962 by Enrico Panattoni, the owner of the “La Marianna”, a gelateria in Bergamo in northern Italy.”
It capped off my Italian gelato taste fest! Just—look at it! It was a MESS and it was DELICIOUS! We loitered around the nearby Piazza Navona (gorgeous-and one of our favorite little spots), gelatos in hand and savored every morsel.
“We’ve all heard of antique dealers, but most of us know next to nothing about antique pickers. And yet these specialists are a crucial link on the chain that drags valuable relics out of obscurity and into our stores, museums and living rooms. In fact, if it weren’t for expert pickers like Mike Wolfe and Frank Fritz, many antique stores would go out of business. Some historical artifacts would never have made their way into display cases. And an entire fleet of classic cars would still be up on blocks.
These self-described “modern archaeologists” are a far cry from dumpster divers. Ask any American picker, and you’ll probably learn there’s a science to their scrounging, a method to their memorabilia-seeking mission. Antique pickers like Mike and Frank travel the country, meeting collectors, hoarders, amateur historians and other individuals who all have unique stories to tell. Each and every treasure they uncover is a new history lesson, providing a glimpse at American life in the recent and distant past.
And then, of course, there’s the thrill of the hunt. Sometimes, it’s a race against time, with various pickers traveling from far and wide to check out–and compete for–a hot lead. Working for clients such as set designers, photographers, decorators and dealers, pickers go on wild goose chases for anything from motorcycles to military regalia to Ferris wheels.
So where do pickers track down their wares? Often, it’s way off the beaten path, in rural towns across the country, or right on the side of the road, especially on garbage pickup days. Sometimes they literally end up going from door to door, hoping to explore an abandoned barn or a basement packed to the gills with junk and gems.
Like antique dealers, pickers need a fabulous eye, especially when evaluating potential purchases that are covered in mildew, buried under dust or broken into fragments. It’s a risky business, too: after all, one person’s trash doesn’t always translate into another’s treasure. Or, as Mike and Frank put it, ‘You’re only as good as the last deal you made.’ ”
pidd-lin’: v. [slang for piddling] to lollygag around town in search of one man’s trash, your treasure; to dilly-dally enjoyably
| ex. the way it feels to wake up early on a saturday + rolling out of bed, throw on the most comfy clothes, flop on your best worn-in ‘ball cap + snag a piping hot cup-a-joe how you like it to-go, just in time to arrive at the morning’s estate sale + auction. As late mornin’ rolls around, you head on up the road to the local antique market just to see what treasures may have been lying in wait to be discovered by its next interested owner.
…that’s piddlin’ at its finest + I could do it everyday.