Next up: Trip of a lifetime

Early Sunday morning, I begin my big journey east ... because I "have to" pick up some antiques I bought in Massachusetts way back in December.

But Dorsey can't go with me because he started a new job not that long ago — although he could go if he wanted, but it just wouldn't be right, you know? 

From the start, I've had absolutely no qualms about traveling that far by myself ... in my truck and pulling my trailer. I think that maybe, besides getting to have amazing antiques in my house and always searching for even better ones, the best part of being an antiques dealer is traveling to all the places I only dreamed about as a child. Maine is one of them. 

Ever since I saw the movie "On Golden Pond," (1981 ... I was 13), I've wanted to go to Maine. In my mind at the time, I never imagined in a million years I would get to go to Maine. Maine was like a whole different country ... even though it's super close to a whole different country. (Yes, I know "On Golden Pond" was not actually set in Maine. But, to me at the time, Maine and New England were synonymous. I think "On Golden Pond" was actually set in New Hampshire?" Someone Google it for me. I'm too lazy.)

Seeing Maine was so important to me that my first fiance (back when I was only 22) planned our honeymoon to Maine. That's how he proposed to me, in fact ... with a Maine travel guide. 

That marriage and that trip never happened.

But 25 years later, Maine is.

First, however, I get to hang out with my 21-year-old baseball playing, baseball loving son. 

So Sunday morning, Jordie and I set out toward Chicago, where we will watch the Cubs play the Brewers at Wrigley field. And while we're there, we will "do" Chicago as much as a day-and-a-half will allow.

Then we will head toward Baltimore by way of Pittsburg first, so that we can see the Orioles play the Astros a few days later. 

(Did I mention that one of the best days of my life — EVER — Hands down — Was when Jordie and I saw the Mets play in NYC while Dorsey worked in nearby Connecticut? Yes. As the song played on the train there that day, "This is gonna be the best day of my lii-ii-ife," it truly was an amazing day.)

After that, Jordie and I head to Boston and spend what little time we have left (a little more than a day)  to experience whatever we can. (Yes, we will be pulling a trailer, and that scares the ever-livin' daylights out of me. But I have confidence ...) 

And, yes, sadly, we're kind of blowing through NYC since we've already gotten to do that, but not Boston. It's just a reality of time and money.

On the 21st, Jordie has to fly back home so he can get back to school. 

BUT ... graciously, my sister flies into Boston about the same time Jordie flies out so that I don't have to finish the last leg of the trip alone. (What? Do people think I can't handle it? Pee Shawwww! I've been pushed out of my comfort zone so many times in the past couple of years, I'm pretty sure I can do anything as long as God (and AudioBooks) is (are) driving ... )

So when Kim gets to Boston, we chill in Boston then head for West Townsend, Massachusetts, so that I can retrieve my goods. We will take it all in there ... and then the fun really begins!

Maine, Maine, Maine. Antiques. Antiques. Antiques. I have it all mapped out.

And when I'm finished doing my thing in Maine, we do Kim's thing at Martha's Vineyard ... not that I'm opposed or anything ... before we head back to the great state of Texas. 

It will take us roughly two-and-a-half days from Massachusetts to Flower Mound, where Kim gets home and I take a nap for the night before heading back to Amarillo.

Two weeks. Two whole weeks to explore much of the eastern part of the United States I've never had the opportunity to see. 

Yes, it's a big deal for a poor kid from Amarillo. I do mean poor. Ask my parents. They'll vouch for me. 

I do believe God gives us the (pure) desires of our hearts ... no matter how many years down the road it takes.

So far, God is batting 1000 in my heart's desires. Maine (and all the rest of the New England states and southeastern states that I someday get to explore further) is one of many. 

(So let me just add another thoughtful addition to this already lengthy explanation of my life's planned-yet-unplanned journeys: Just in case without my knowledge it's my time to go and I don't get to see the rest ... that's OK, I still get to see all the rest!)

In the meantime,  I plan to come back with plenty of photos and stories about this trip. 

Thank you thank you thank you, God. You have every idea how much this means to me. :-)

Can't believe it's happening ... have you ever really stopped and thought about the course of your life ... CRAZY and unexpected, for sure.

... but I'm going to miss Dorsey and my zoo so much! 

One down, many more to go!

Our next show!!

So here's the thing: I like to post on my personal site because, well, I like the blog format and I can handle it. Updates to the other site are coming soon ... as well as updated merchandise.

Our trip to Round Top and participation in the Original Round Top Antiques Fair was invaluable. While we had sales success (and some extremely long days, as well), perhaps the best part at this time in our development was the contacts we made. Lots of great people with great connections to other shows and other people.

As a result, we already have lined up a few additional shows, starting with the one advertised in the photo above. 

• Heartland Antiques Show, Saturday June 4 in Richmond, IN.
• The Original Round Top Antiques Fair, Sept. 26-Oct. 1 in Round Top, TX
• Boerne Fall Antiques Show, Nov. 19&20, Boerne, TX
• Fiddlers Antique Show, Feb. 15-18, 2017, Nashville, TN

I can already tell this will be quite a journey. I am exhausted and still recovering from Round Top. Doing these things is a challenge with chronic pain and no time to rest. Somehow, I'll figure out a way to manage. At least I've waited until after the show to crash!! And, not every show is a full six days. Most are one to three days. Fiddlers is four. Regardless, I'm excited. 

I can't believe this is my life now.

.

.

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P.S. My dad's truck is perfect for this. It pulls a trailer beautifully.

Baptism by fire

Stuff EVERYWHERE! The cats are totally bent out of shape.

Here we go, folks! Dorsey recently posted on the Wilmarth's Tin Cats web site that everything is about to get real ... his perspective.

Of course I get my two-cents worth.

I've been told by fellow dealers I'm getting to know that I'm nuts for debuting our business at a show like Round Top. It is, after all, HUUUUGE! And a big deal. And respected.

And lasts for six days instead of the usual two to three!

Here it all goes, then. Call me brave, call me stupid. It's happening.

I'm totally stoked about this late 1700s hutch table from New Hampshire. If it doesn't sell in Round Top, well, darn, I guess I just get to live with it for a while. :-)

I have spent the last several months plotting and planning my merchandise. I have had all of my "smalls," as we call them in the business, and quite a few furniture items, but my main pieces, the ones I've been extremely excited about, finally arrived after a touch-and-go, nerve-wracking few weeks of truck driver serious illness, bad Louisiana flooding and broken trailer parts. Still ... it's all good now. Besides, what would life be without drama ... always some drama.

I love the grain-painted mustard dry sink (top left). The top right shows a celery painted hanging cupboard.
The green-painted basket and tall wall cupboard came from my new friend in Sedona.

Arizona finds. They all came from New England, of course, but I found them in AZ.

And I found a few bonus items on an unexpected trip just the previous week when I traveled to Arizona to see Jordie pitch in a Tucson baseball tournament. Who would have thought? After all, my stuff is early American, mostly country antiques. Arizona wasn't even founded until 1912 ...

During the first week of March, I set out to get everything on my checklist for my booth and the trip ... much of what was learned after we visited the Round Top Winter Show in January, and from my mother-in-law's vast experience.  My new dealer friends have given their input, too.  Wall paper, tool kit, lights, packing stuff, hooks, nails, screws, signs, bags, various tapes, tax registration info, receipt book, pens, money, tape measure, step ladder, rug ... and all kinds of things I would never think of on my own.

This past week has found me battling a migraine (thank you, West Texas wind) while enduring my torn up house and packing for the show. (Not to mention Dorsey was gone a day or two for job interviews ... still working on that.)

Two kitties think they should go, too.
Socks is guarding all the tools and other important things.

Oh, and then there's the whole planning-what-am-I-going-to-wear-for-six-days-straight? To me, that's the worst part.  I hate packing. Really, really, really hate it. What if I forget something important, like the hanging clothes that aren't packed in my suitcase? Which black sandals do I take? The strappy ones or the wedges? Or both? Both pairs of boots or one? Will this top look OK with that skirt? What about these jeans? Boot-cut or narrow? How about a couple of each? Ugh!

Dorsey picks up the U-Haul trailer in the morning, and we load, with the help of a friend. That's when we run through the checklist one more time and then hit the road. I'm glad to have Dorsey with me this time. That trip to Arizona (and back pulling a trailer) by myself was quite a drive and an adventure!

We'll spend the night with Kim and Vince tomorrow night in Flower Mound and then head on to Round Top Saturday for set up. The show starts Monday. (I still think it's strange this is all happening Easter weekend ...)

And meanwhile, our friend Carmen will be holding down our fort and taking care of our crazy herd.

What a strange new world this is!

Vacation Happens ... the good; part one

Such a relaxing time.

Sunset, last night in Curacao

Dinner one night. Outside.

Dorsey and I spent last week in Curacao, an island in the south Caribbean sea, very near to the Venezuelan coast. As the photos indicate, stunning isn't a large enough word to describe the island's water and beaches.

Playa Kalki beach, known for good snorkeling and beauty. 

We chose Curacao because it met criteria — in the travel guides — for our requirements. Good diving (for Dorsey), which the island lived up to; good food (yeah, mostly ... I had the best chocolate molten cake ever); good shopping (I have no idea ... I didn't even try it because I just wanted to stay on the beaches and relax); and BEAUTIFUL BEACHES.

As for the shopping, we did tour the downtown shopping area on Sunday when most everything was closed. Downtown Willemstad reminded me of a cross between New York City and New Orleans.  Just like that. I'm not sorry we didn't shop, though. Relaxation and beautiful views met my needs.

I was somewhat obsessed with the cat-sized
iguanas all over the Marriott resort. 

 The Marriott Resort was nice. I enjoyed the beach, the pool and the service, although I wonder a little bit what staying at the Renaissance might have been like. It could have changed the entire focus of my stay (not Dorsey's; diving was his thing). The Renaissance (also a Marriott) is located in/near downtown Willemstad, where there is more bustle and shopping.

View from a restaurant of the Renaissance Hotel's beach side.

We always stay at Marriott's when we travel because Dorsey gathers so many frequent stay points through his travels that we end up staying on points wherever we go. (Job perk!)

Like other islands we've visited, tourism is Curacao's life force. Otherwise, poverty abounds on the island. Driving is a nightmare for those of us who have learned to rely on Siri. The streets are not marked!!! So when Siri says to turn left or right on such-and-such street (in Dutch, by the way), we have no idea what that street is. No signs! Who does that?

Dutch is the predominant language, although most locals also speak English. We just couldn't read many signs or directions. Oh, well. We're still alive, right? And we managed to eat the food we intended. :-)

This one came to visit me and stayed awhile
one morning.

 The travel guide said the locals were friendly. I found that true with the staff at the hotel and restaurants, but not so much with just everyday people doing their thing. The driving rivals that of Amarillo drivers. RUDE! And I didn't notice much courtesy to pedestrians. Oh, well. Guess those islanders don't appreciate the money tourists bring to their beautiful but poverty-stricken home. 

OK, wait. I noticed that if we said "hello" first, we received a friendly "hello" in return.  Another thing we noticed is the lack of haste to eat and run. The meal experience usually took about two hours. Waitstaff didn't care to hurry us or anyone else out of our seats, no matter what type of restaurant. That was a strange experience! So unAmerican!!

This was our vantage point.

Perhaps the most unusual experience occurred on Morning Number One. We jumped out of bed and headed straight for the beach first thing.

DEAD BODY!

Yep, he wasn't even covered yet. So we and everyone else watched the hotel staff scramble to put barriers around his body with lounge chairs and a couple of towels. This lasted about two hours as staff guarded the body and waited for "CSI: Curacao" to show up. Finally, the poor guy's body was removed.

I found out later from the massage therapist — who was super nice and good, but still not as good as Amarillo man Larry Brooks at Relaxation Station — that the man was a local, and cause of death was uncertain. Drowning is the predominant theory, although the man was 78 years old. I'm assuming it wasn't foul play, based on the way things played out that morning. Sad.

Overall, the vacation provided much-needed downtime for Dorsey and me after the year of constant change and loss we've had. It was really the first time either of us relaxed, I think.

Dorsey and I like to compare the islands we've been to — he's visited more — and we still say St. Kitt's is our favorite so far. That trip with Kim and Vince over my birthday in 2008 was epic. As for Curacao, we will check this one off the list and relish the fun memories we've been blessed with.

(But soon we will be searching for the next Caribbean island to visit — although I've demanded that the next major vacation is Italy ... and there are beaches there, so Dorsey should be just fine.)

Stay tuned for part 2 ... the bad that attempted to ruin vacation and all the philosophizing that goes with it ...

Potatoes, huckleberries and bling

City Beach, Sandpoint, Idaho

My time in amazing Sandpoint, Idaho, ended yesterday. Dorsey and I had been in Northwest Idaho for 9 days, most of that in Sandpoint, although I spent a day and way too much money in beautiful Coeur d' Alene.  But I did my part to support the Sandpoint economy, as well. I'm sure they cried when I left. (I did get some hugs, though.)

While Sandpoint is only a relatively short distance from Canada, I didn't go because I had so many things to see and do in the potato state — yummy french fries at Mack Duff's. I'll save Canada for at least a four-year stay in the unfortunate event that either Donald Trump or Kanye West becomes President of the United States. (I shudder to think about these two outrageous, attention-seeking, egomaniacs in that role.)

Dorsey has had work in the northwest for months; he's already done the Coeur d' Alene thing several times. I wasn't able to go on those trips — or any other for more than a year in order to be with my parents.  In fact, this is the first work trip since before my parents got sick that I have traveled with Dorsey. I didn't realize how much I'd missed it until a sense of normalcy seemed to settle upon me while there.

Like Bend, Oregon (still my fave), I could easily see myself living in Sandpoint. It's pretty. It's small. It's a physically active town — you can walk just about anywhere. I love the clothing styles (except maybe the overuse of Birkenstocks), it's laid-back personality, and my political beliefs fit more naturally with this part of the country. (I have no idea how that happened, but it did, and I am grateful ... but that is a post for another time.)

I felt true happiness for the first time since my parents became ill. It's as if my little spirit came alive and said, "OK, fly." And so it did.

Tierra Madre, my twice daily
juice stop.

While Dorsey worked during the days, I developed a little morning routine of coffee on the deck at Starbucks, walking around the beach and the town's walking trail, and then heading over to the juice bar for breakfast.

Yes, I kept up my juicing while in Sandpoint. At least I could feel somewhat healthy in the middle of enjoying things like chocolate mousse, key lime pie, ice cream and oatmeal cookies. (It's definitely time for a three-day reboot.)

And sort of as an aside, I would so like to open a juice bar kind of like Tierra Madre, my favorite Sandpoint juice joint, but I don't believe Amarillo would support it.

Resident kitty

After I had gotten ready for the day and loved on the hotel's resident kitty, I explored Sandpoint, shopped, browsed the town's massive used book store, read lazily (I found a new author I liked that I pulled from my mother's bookshelf!), and made myself a few friends from Sandpoint.

I spent much of my time conversing with the locals about their town, about Idaho and about mutual interests. I've never really done that in my travels before, but now I know I've short-changed myself all this time. Or maybe it was just that Sandpoint people are friendly? (OK, not the witch at the laundromat; there are a few bad potatoes in every sack.) I don't know. I do know I had a nice experience and learned many interesting little facts.

For example, Lake Pend Oreille — pronounced Ponderay — is the eighth largest in the U.S., — Tahoe is sixth — and it was formed from an ice glacier thousands of years ago. I also learned about sweet and amazing ospreys and asshole bald eagles. Really, bald eagles may look majestic, but they aren't very nice. I compare them to human sociopaths. And huckleberries abound! Huckleberry jam, huckleberry syrup, huckleberry ice cream, huckleberry sauce, huckleberry chocolate, huckleberry tea ... probably even huckleberry beer.  I even learned that the reason the Philly Cheesesteak Sandwiches at Joe's AUTHENTIC Philly Cheesesteaks are authentic is because the ingredients, such as meat and rolls, come from Philadelphia.

First night dinner on the lake.

Dorsey and I headed out every night to try nearly all of Sandpoint's restaurants. For a town of not quite 8,000 people, the number of excellent restaurants surprised us. Everything we tried was good, either because of food, atmosphere or both. Several restaurants also featured local live music, which I'm always good for.

As I always do when I travel, I wondered in amazement at the quirky, different,  special, beautiful and even annoying things about the town and culture. For example, driving in Idaho sucked because speed limits are no higher than 65, at best. And apparently, people don't understand the concept of slow traffic confining itself to the right lane. One girl gave me a special wave out the window after I made an honest driving mistake — I didn't know the highway well enough to know two lanes were about to merge into one ... Geez.

It struck me yet again about how, growing up in Texas, I somehow internalized an overly exaggerated sense of pride in the state of Texas ... so much so that I never considered or imagined other parts of the country could be more amazing or offer anything special. Crazy and snobbish, I know. Now all I want to do is visit every part of the United States ... and other countries, too, of course. I believe I have developed a bad case of "the greener grass syndrome."  I always come home to Amarillo wanting to move. Someday maybe we can, but not yet.  (Give me a break, OK? I have lived in Amarillo for more than 40 years. Change is warranted.)

Weekends and summer days.

When I have an extra mil or two.

So pretty.

I think a final thing I noticed on this trip is my love of bling. It's back! When Mom and Dad were sick, I cared only about getting dressed in my yoga pants and t-shirts, and throwing my hair up in a big ponytail clip. Unlike me, I often went days without makeup. I just didn't care. When Dad moved in, I went through my closet and got rid of bag after bag of clothing and jewelry, and what I didn't get rid of then, I tried again after they died. I didn't care about my shiny stuff much. I got rid of lots of fashion jewelry, which I used to crazily adore. I didn't care anymore. I figured I was just getting old and had completely outgrown my midlife crisis of a few years back.

But Idaho ... particularly Coeur d'Alene ... changed that.

Not only does the shiny, blingy stuff rule again, I have created a new wardrobe.

I'm home now, and I have no idea whether my apparent turn of a corner will last. I still grieve. I will never get used to being an orphan. I think of my parents every day, and I worry that the further away their deaths get from me, the further away they get from me. I am now back around familiar things, and we still have their homes and belongings to take care of.  It's still early in this grief game, I think.

I just know that I liked feeling good again, if at least for a little while.

I'm truly grateful for the experience and hope to return to Idaho someday.