Totem Pole Park

On Sunday we took one of our meandering family drives with no real plan in mind other than to get out and enjoy temperatures that were only in the 80s and make a stop at one of our favorite spots on earth, Totem Pole Park. I never get tired of visiting that place! A few years ago, I even got to help repaint a bit of the Fiddle House there. It was nice to see how the renovations had come along since then. I'm so happy that this treasure is being preserved. You can see more of the park through the years in my first post about it, which was one of my very first posts on this here blog.

We also spied a little Route 66 shop that we hadn't before, but it was closed, so I snapped a couple photos of the outside. The cinder block walls are covered in the autographs of Route 66 travelers from all over the world.

We took a whole bunch of photos that day. I am trying to get better about having my photo taken, but it's hard for me. I don't want these girls of mine to grow up and not have a single photo of their mama! Here's one that the Mister took. I call this my Downton Abbey Meets Reform School Girl outfit.

I updated the "About" page with some more photos of that day if you'd like to see more of the place or my goofy mug.

Feminist Friday: I Didn't Jump The Fence

I'm baaa-aack. Let's trot this son of a gun out for another drunken joyride which will likely spin out and crash into the guardrails of apathy in about two months. I'm just shooting you straight. You know it's gonna end in tears and stained undershorts, but maybe we'll have a laugh, you know?

 So, yeah. Turns out, two kids keep you busy. Plus, I started a Girl Scout troop since last we chatted, and that has been a lot of work, but pretty rewarding. I also had one of my biannual where-the-hell-am-I-going-with-this-thing? crises. I still don't really know the answer, besides motherin' these little girls and generally being kick ass. I want to be an artist/designer/author/musician/songwriter/astronaut/archeologist/well-paid expert/farmer/beautician when I grow up, and I don't think that's too much to ask. Or maybe it is. I'll figure it out one day. So, let's just jump straight into something that might become a regular feature here called "A Feminist Look at Classic Country Music" or A.F.L.A.C.C.M. Huh...Ahflackem.....Okay, we're just gonna call this thing "Feminist Friday", kids. Check out this ridiculous song by Red Sovine, singer and dramatic reciter of many classic truck driving songs, the most famous being the diesel-drenched tear jerker "Teddy Bear".



Now, this is pre-"Teddy Bear", about a decade before Red had really hit his stride and found his long haulin' niche. "I Didn't Jump The Fence" is a little ditty about cheatin' with the neighbor's wife. Only the neighbor's wife is apparently an apple tree with loose morals. Basically, she and her hoohah are pieces of fruit to be stolen and fought over between neighbors. It seems that when her husband's out of town, she dangles her ripe fruit over the back fence like a wanton hussy. She may also have an out-of-control 60's bush that needs to be trimmed, but I could be misinterpreting something. Red's attitude is all, "Hey, don't get mad at me, man. Your apple tree's a total slut. You should cut it down a notch if you don't want me groping your whore apples." So what have we learned today? The 60s were a time of offensive sexual double standards and weird, sorta gross, fruit metaphors.

Contemporary Shell Craft

Nothing says "kitschy craft of yesteryear" like seashells glued to one another. I have a real soft spot in my heart for this kind of stuff. Maybe it comes from being born a landlocked Okie, but more than that, I think I'm just struck with the ingenuity and creativity of the human mind. Since the beginning of time, people have looked at shells on the beach and admired their beauty. Maybe they even made pretty jewelery. But who was the first person who thought, "If I stick this shell to this one this way, and then attach this little one on top, it would look just like a mouse!" Yes, I think about this kind of thing.




Here's Miss Gayle Pearson, the author and creator of these seashell pretties, of whom great things were expected. I wonder what she went on to achieve in her future career as one of the craft movers and shakers of the 1960s. I love the artist bios in these old craft booklets. These gals were the craft bloggers of their day.




Okay. These mermaid candy dishes just killed me dead.

A New Crop O' Saints

I am just tickled to death to share with you some new art I've been cookin' up over the last couple of weeks. Allow me to introduce you to some lovely ladies, those Patron Saints of the Domestic Arts.

First we have St. Flora, Patron Saint of Gardening:



Then comes St. Helene, Patron Saint of Sewing:



The lovely St. Charlotte, Patron Saint of Crochet:



Followed by St. Lucy, Patron Saint of Knitting:



And finally, St. Maribel, Patron Saint of Embroidery.



All of these lovely lady Prayer Candles are available in the shop with more to follow, I'm sure!

Where The Magic Happens

Get your dirty minds out of the gutter! This post is about mine and The Mister's shared office/studio/crap containment area. Adding a new member of the family means that some room swapping is in order, so I've pared down my vintage lovelies and craft supplies and somehow managed to squeeze what's left into a rather tiny bedroom.


This is where the designing, creating, and packing + shipping required by Sweetheartville takes place, along with Welcome Little Stranger songwriting and recording sessions. It's also where a whole lot of interneting happens.
On the top of this old medical cabinet which holds crafty odds and ends and enough vintage rick rack to choke a magnetic donkey, I've displayed some artwork by my talented friends Heather, Sam, and Sara, and some inspiring photos and bits of paper that I change out from time to time. The vintage beauty products are just a few sent to me by my incredibly, amazingly generous friend Bob. Thank you Bob!


Wanda just returned after her whirlwind tour of OKC, and now resides in a place of honor overlooking one of my most favorite possessions, a tintype of my mom and dad made on a trip to Silver Dollar City a few years before I was born.
Just a little peek inside Sweetheartville!

Saint Ginger, Patron Saint of Manicurists

There's a new saint in Sweetheartville, and she's here to wrangle ragged cuticles, sculpt acrylics and gels, and wield a polish brush with precision. She's Saint Ginger, Patron Saint of Manicurists, and she joins Saint Tammy in the Sweetheartville Beauty Operator Prayer Candle lineup.





Speaking of the nail techs, I've designed a new Beauty Button just for the nail-doin' ladies and gents:



Also newly added to the Beauty Button line is this cheeky design:



And for something a bit different, these two birdie buttons are little pieces o' art which can be pinned just about anywhere you need some colorful quirkiness.





Of course, all of these and several other new designs are available in ye olde shoppe.

Miss Amy's Stitch and Kitsch

Me: Sigh. What's this world coming to? Everyone is hateful and nasty and my Facebook feed is full of people who I have nothing in common with but friended because they asked me to and we were in the same English class in 9th grade. I work all the time, yet my house and yard still look like the scene where an Amnesia-riddled Goldie Hawn sees Kurt Russell's place for the first time in the 1987 hit movie Overboard. The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan will never end. People are so judgmental. My new job is stressful and I need to lose 40 pounds. The Gulf of Mexico is ruined forever and Nashville is devastated and tornadoes are killing other Okies, and no one "gets" me. Boo hoo hoo. I'm going to go eat worms.....Oh, whatever can this box on my front porch contain?....*SQUEAL*



Will you look at this doll?! Seriously. Could Miss Amy be any more amazing? Look at her hair and her little red high heels, and her dress! My Sweet Lord, do you see the mothereffin' vintage hankie dress?!!



Get over to Miss Amy's Stitch and Kitsch right now and get yourself one, or commission one that looks just like you. Better yet, commission one that looks just like Miss Amy because she is the most gorgeous pretty red-haired beauty lady that ever lived!



Thank you, Amy.

*Beautiful photo of Miss Amy by Dynamite Dames Photography.

A Musical Make Up Kit

While perusing the delightful Male Pattern Boldness this morning, I was lucky enough to discover this clip from 1945's "The Dolly Sisters" starring Betty Grable. Vintage beauty lovers, you are in for a real treat--lipstick, powder, rouge, and mascara brought to singing, dancing life. I nearly needed smelling salts!

Goin' on a Vinyl Hayride

I recently treated myself to a book that I know I'll turn to for inspiration again and again. Vinyl Hayride, by Paul Kingsbury, is a fantastic collection of country music album covers spanning the years 1947 through 1989.


How could a book featuring Webb Pierce and all this Nudie goodness on the front cover exist in the world without my owning a copy? Nonsense.

Here's my old pal Hank Thompson in 1953.


Doesn't Carl Smith look fine in his Nudie shirt? The world just lost him a few weeks ago.


The classic "Blood on the Saddle" by Tex Ritter has some fetching cover art, if I do say so.


The Great Jim Flora didn't just do big band and jazz album covers. Here he lends his signature style to Jimmie Driftwood's "The Battle of New Orleans". I'm still keeping an eye out for Flora record covers, but I haven't had much luck.


If I get my hands on whoever made Dolly cry here, I'll kick his ass all the way back to the Blue Ridge Mountains! Dolly's much too beautiful to be sad.


I honestly have no idea who Cliffie Stone is, but I would kill for his boots.


This last one gets me all choked up. When you combine classic country music, big hair, vintage aqua kitchenware, and crafty homemade lettering, well, you might as well just slap my mouth and take my checkbook.*


*I have no idea what this phrase means.

Young and Firm Wave

Who knew an ad for a permanent wave could be so creepy, yet so fabulous?