Even Tommy Loves the Cowboys

Tommy had to assist in photographing these 1930's oil on canvas paintings of cowboys. I told him down a little on the left.

Mr. Flannery

Meet Wilma Youngbauer circa 1920

I like old photographs. I was searching through boxes in the garage today and found a box of old photos that I bought at an auction 4-5 years ago. Here is a striking pair of Wilma Youngbauer of St. Paul, Minnesota. In the 2nd she is wearing a man's suit with her legs akimbo, foot on a chair and holding a cigarette. How scandalous.

Mr. Flannery

Gypsy Lea's Will Be Ready for May Sale

Setting Up

Preparing to Dance with Furniture

My made up back bar

Back bar with 2 modern paintings

Some of Kris and Mike's Pieces

One month to opening at the new shabby shop in Sauk Rapids. I stopped by Gypsy Lea's today to paint a few of my items and to offer sage advice to the people who were actually working. It is going to be a very exciting place.

Mr. Flannery

Why Women and Men Can't Communicate, Part 47

Men and woman too often speak to each other from alternate universes. Here's one of my favorite examples:

HE -- Honey, when will you be ready to leave?

Now he has been around women all his life, in fact, his mother was one. And there is nothing in his life experiences that would support his expectations, but with his limited communication skills he has determined that her answer will be in the range of 20 minutes all the way to 4:30. All he really wants to know is can I make a sandwich and watch baseball on TV. But the answer is:

SHE -- Well darling I have to find the black dress that looks kinda like the one that Sheila wore to the Murphy's party last month, or was that Ami? Oh well, and I need to put on my mascara and blush, and then try to get my hair to shape up like Sylvia's after her last trip to Rodrico's only more to the left than the right, and then I need to find the sling back pumps that match the dress because they will look great even though they hurt my feet and I better bring my Reeboks to keep in the car for the trip to and from . . . . .

He thinks that there must be a 20 minute like answer in there somewhere and all he has to do is figure it out. But no matter how hard he ponders, getting her hair to sit just like Sylvia's does not conjure up any time frame at all.

He thinks that she is not answering his simple question, which leads to anxiety about the sandwich (feeding being a core function in his life). She thinks that he never listens to her. Bahhhhh! We might as well be speaking Hindi to an Eskimo.

Mr. Flannery

Please Don't Tell Me That There's No Money Out There

I attended an auction at one of my favorite auction houses on Friday evening, Dave Miller's in St. Cloud. Life on the tundra has returned to its abysmal pre-global warming days with 8-10 inches of heavy wet slushy snow on April 11th. Getting to and from the auction was the normal harrowing experience of life at a place that is farther north than where most Canadians live. The auction fare was typical household estate stuff with some good, some junk and nothing spectacular. The prices, however, were out of this world. Many pieces of 1970's fiberboard furniture achieved prices that outpaced those reached by real antiques at other recent auctions.

The room was packed and the money was flying. Given the life or death driving conditions and the falling economy, the entire auction had a surreal feel. A 1980's Italian pottery drink pitcher and mugs for $95. A marginal 1970's print of Venice in a broken frame $65. A nominal wood veneer and glass display cabinet $475. A genuine imported plastic gold framed mirror for $75. It was three hours into the auction and I had spent more on a chicken sandwich than on any items auctioned. I ended up buying a 1967 bright yellow Italian plastic pop bead covered purse. And the damn thing doesn't even match my shoes!


In light of the results of the auction, please don't tell me that there isn't any money out there floating around. Discretionary spending, bordering on the absurd, was alive and well, at least for one night, here on the tundra.

Mr. Flannery

We Don't Sell Food or Toilet Paper

My sales at the April occasional sale in Buffalo continued to be spotty. Some furniture seems to be selling, the number of shoppers has increased substantially and interest has heated up from the depths of winter. My sales were higher in volume but capped by an $89 upholstered chair. I sold a ton of smalls. $15-20 frames and paintings sold out. But my $395 brass bed bench generated little interest. It appears that the customers wanted to buy, but were limiting their purchases to my cheaper items.

I have never really understood the antiques business. The one thing that I have learned is that as soon as I think I have it worked out, I am wrong. Then there is the undeniable truth that we don't sell necessities. There is no food or toilet paper for sale in the shop. There is an inverse relationship between gasoline prices and sales. The more gasoline costs the less discretionary money there is for my shabotaged pieces.

I am going to gut my spot at the Porch before the May occasional sale. I need to shake it up completely. I will add many more smalls. Smaller tables, cheaper furniture and many more frames, prints and paintings. I want to have a more Spring look. More things for the garden. More color. And I do have the turquoise, teal and aqua memo in hand for the shabotaging. Maybe some nice weather will permit me to rework my inventory and freshen my look.

And I am very happy that I have a real job to support this habit.

Mr. Flannery

If it will fit in the truck, it will surely fit in the house

A mantra that contributes to an overwhelming accumulation of stuff. While true with any individual truck full, it is a delusion that falls apart somewhere between the 13th and 17th load. The people involved in our style of decorating most often believe that more is better and much more is even betterer. The old saw that three of anything are a collection, means that we collect just about everything. Three examples of any collection is a minimal level surpassed long ago.

I have never collected mixing bowls. When I moved into the lake house about 15 years ago I had an open space above the cupboards in the pantry. This will be a great place to display a few bowls and crocks. Therefore, I searched through the moving boxes and started putting a few pieces that were laying around, mostly as incidental purchases related to something else that I wanted, on display in the pantry. 15 years and many trucks full later and this is what I have.

This is really not what I have. This is what I have room to display. There are other bowls and crockery scattered through the house, closed cupboards and various storage spaces. Oh my! And some people worry about 3 pieces being a collection. I am obviously bowled over.

Mr. Flannery

Weller Pottery Kingfisher Pitchers

I really like these Weller Pottery pitchers. They are from the Zona line. I like this duck pitcher too.


Mr. Flannery

Old Lights Yes - Old Wires I Don't Think So

One of the many fields of interests that I have explored in the junkin' world is lamps and lighting. I used to collect leaded and slag panel stained glass lamps, but they have now disappeared from the market or moved to Sotheby type prices. Just about the only leaded glass lamps that I see at auction today are Tiffany lamps (made by their daughter Tiffany in 1987) or turn of the century Chinese pieces (that would be 8 years ago when the century turned). So I have branched out into more recent table, floor and hanging lamps.

While antique or vintage lighting is often stunning, the wiring can be down right shocking. I like the old lighting, but the old wiring has to go. It is better to disassemble most lamps and rewire them with new, well insulated wiring. The photo is of a pair of interesting lavender colored boudoir lamps that I recently redid.

There is nothing more jarring than a nice old lamp fitted with a brand new shiny brass socket from the Depot. It just doesn't look right. I like to reuse the old brass parts from the lamp while fitting the newer guts from the Depot inside. I often buy lamps at auction, not for their lighting suitability, but for their wonderfully patinated brass parts. These parts look right and are much cheaper than a new light repair kit. I buy surplus power cords at the local electronic parts salvage store. They have a regular molded plug on one end and a special attachment plug on the other. I cut off the special plug, thread it through the lamp, strip the ends and connect up the lamp socket. Not only do these cords have an integrated plug, they only cost me a half buck each. (You can use a cheap new extension cord in the same manner if you can't find the surplus store nearby.)


Mr. Flannery

Ice Out

The ice is just about ready to "go out" on the Lake. This is an important sign of Spring here on the tundra. The ice is getting a mushy dark gray look and there is a crack that extends from the shore to the center of the bay. Two days ago my neighbors were on the Lake with their four wheeler drilling holes for one last chance at ice fishing. This morning Babe had to break through about 4 feet of skim ice along the shore to get to the hard ice. He was chasing ravens and is certain that without the swimming start he would have got them.

Mr. Flannery