The sale we visited last Saturday is going to haunt me. It was on of those estate sales where there was old stuff in a new house, and not a whole lot of it (except for the doll room, but I was too distracted by other things to properly take in a wall full of dolls, most of them definitely on the creepy side.)
I was looking at the needlepoint...
It wasn't until we pulled out onto the main road before the not-buyers-remorse hit. I usually don't feel the need to "save the stitches" but this time it's hit me hard. Parking was truly awful (old people were standing on the sidewalk and yelling at other old people for parking on the street) and I convinced myself that it wasn't worth going through that again, but it was a bad decision I'm already regretting.
Whoever lived in that house, I love her style.
Look at this cross-stitched doll...
There was a ton of gorgeous tole painting.
And this hanging over the fireplace. It's black velvet. We've seen black velvet in the thrift shops, but never out in its original spot.
I wanted these, too. But there's that whole lack of wall space and can't-have-everything-I-want thing. Plus the fact that I completely and totally forgot about these once I saw that needlepoint.
I did save some stitches. This needlepoint piece was tucked in a closet, wrapped around a cardboard tube. I don't love it as much as the framed pieces, but it was two bucks and those snowflakes are all the most perfect French knots you can imagine.
In a sealed plastic baggie I paid a dollar for, I got not one but two pieces of Bicentennial crewel. I didn't know what they were until I got them home.
If you see a purpose for these beyond pinning them up on the sewing room wall, please let me know. I'm ridiculously in love with them, but why?
These were unsealed and I don't know if they're complete. I did peek inside to make sure they weren't filled with hand traced patterns for doll clothes and saw wooden pieces and upholstery fabric. My fingers are crossed....and I'm wondering if there was a dollhouse before we got there.