The Day That We Went To The Emerald City of China

A couple of months back, the Mister and I made one of our dreams come true. And we dragged my Mom along with us, poor bird. She was in town for a visit and we wanted to take her to Chattanooga to see the aquarium. Since we were going to be in Chattanooga all day, we took the opportunity to finally go to Deck's Glassware.



If you've never heard of it, don't be surprised. We hadn't either until a friend of the Mister laid the secret on him. She does catering and had gone there to get dishes for her catering jobs. We were especially interested because we collect old cafe china (aka "restaurant ware") - you know, the thick, heavy dishes that have been used in cafes and restaurants since forever? We love to collect the different patterns and pieces and use them as our daily dishes. They're beautiful workhorses. Up until now, we'd only been able to pick up a random piece here and there. Trying to find new patterns in thrift stores and yard sales had been pretty hard. When we heard that there was a warehouse of the stuff hidden within Chattanooga, it seemed like the stuff of legends! Could it possibly be true?

It took us a while to find the place, a very unassuming looking warehouse in a mixed-use neighborhood with one small sign and lone window across the front. When we walked in to the front of the store, I have to admit being disappointed because there were a couple of rooms of china, glasses and cute votives. You know.... nicer stuff in a very organized and clean space. Not that nice isn't good. It just wasn't quite the underground tomb of glee that we'd heard it might be and I love to root for treasures! When we found Mr. Deck smiling behind the counter, the Mister and I said at once, "We heard that you might have old cafe china?" and then well....

This happened! 

Yes, oh yes. He did indeed have cafe china. This is just a third of one room  - and the first of many huge rooms. Between the stifling July-in-the-South heat and the revelation that we had just stumbled into our wildest dreams, I almost stroked out. I checked my mouth to see if both sides still moved and thankfully they did so that I could manage to squeal out, "Ohmygoshhhhh DooooYouSeeeeee???"

The Mister was a mile ahead of me, shrieking. I could only find him by following the sound of his shrieks and the worrisome din of dishes being shuffled about way too quickly. From time to time, I could hear him say, "Oh Ho! You have got to see this one!" We darted around like rats who had just been released from a life-long trap into a world where the walls were made of nothing but cheese.  My Mom looked like she'd just seen the boogie man. There were teetering piles of dishes further than the eyes could see. There was dirt and dust and mud and puddles and spiderwebs and pigeons and dangerous, dark corners. It was perfect!

Okay, even after I've prattled on, you folks have no idea how much we were freaking out. The place was so big that honestly, you could stay there all day, every day for a week and never be able to look at every dish. They were stacked so tall and so tight that it was a very precarious act to look through them. We did our best though! It must have been a hundred and ten degrees in there and we had all broken out into rolling sweats but onward we trudged, making a pile of finds in the middle of the floor. My Mom is such a trooper. She doesn't collect cafe china but she knew how happy we were, so she wandered through the rooms, peeking in boxes and chuckling at our glee. She's an old-school collector so thankfully, she understood.



What was in those boxes? I don't even know! It was that kind of place. The kind of place where you feel so frenzied that you forget to look in boxes of unopened, deadstock china.








This was the Fiesta corner. Apparently, he used to have a lot more Fiesta but all that we could manage to see were a lot of white dishes and some newer colored teapots missing lids. Though, who's to say what's in those sealed boxes? Not me, that's for sure. Because I'd done lost my damned mind.



Deck's Glass also has other things besides cafe china. Pretty vintage pieces offered for a steal:

These cool old bird themed glass tumblers were just a buck each. 

We spent quite a bit of time talking to the owner Chester and learned that he had inherited the store and warehouse from his Dad who had passed on. The Senior Mr. Deck had started the business in the 1960's and started out by buying Homer Laughlin pieces from the factory to resell to restaurants, hospitals and pretty much any place that had the need for good, sturdy china. Thus, everything sitting in the warehouse has never been used - much of it is back-stock and has been sitting there for decades. He said that he has done a good deal of business with Mexican restaurants who favor cafe china, but with the plunge in the economy, he's just barely holding on now. And to me, that's not right.

Let me tell you all, he is such a nice man. He must have called me "Ma'am" about a hundred times. And he really knows his china too. Each piece that we bought was delicately wrapped up by him as he told us about each pattern. We left the warehouse feeling super stoked to have found it but at the same time, sad for the possible future of Deck's after such a long history. If you all know anyone who you think might be interested in the treasures that can be found at the store/warehouse, please share this post. We promised him that I'd blog about it and try to drum up more customers. I'd love for the word to get out into the vintage housewares loving community and the cafe china collectors alike.

We could just tell by our conversation with him that he was worried about the finances and the days to come - and though we would love to keep Deck's our little secret, we know that the only way to help it survive is to pass the word.  I also wish that we could have spent more time chatting with him. This is one of those places that we'd hate to see go by the wayside - a family owned business started by an entrepreneural father many decades ago, and now handed down to a son who is unfortunately battling today's economy.

Here is a sneak peek at what we brought home from Deck's. I'll show them to you in greater detail tomorrow!



In the end, none of us got heat stroke and we spent a good couple of hours in the place. We would have loved to have had a full day to carefully sort through the dishes with a flashlight and a cool breeze on us - but the time that we did spend there has now become the stuff of china collecting Kitsch Family legend. Oh! And in the end, even my Mom found a score - a plate that matched the china that her own Mother handed down to her a long time ago. How do you like that? I like it a lot. Thanks Deck's!

Deck's Glassware is located at 4118 Dodds Avenue in Chattanooga, Tennessee. 

The phone number is (423) 867-9352. 

Please think of them first for your vintage dish and glassware needs. I know that Chester would appreciate it a lot - and we would too! If you love the thrill of a treasure hunt - or just a good deal - this is the place for you!

You can go here to see all of the goodies that we got!

Hello there, beautiful. Where have you been all of my life? 

Until next time,
x's and o's,
Eartha

The Ranch says "Hey" the Thrift Core Way

Thanks to the lovely Van over at Thrift Core for looking us up for an interview here at the ranch!

If you're not familiar with Thrift Core, be sure and check out the archives and bookmark her site. She's a very creative lady and has a real eye for finds and a head for business. I always look forward to her posts and have learned a lot from her. I consider her one of the good souls and shining stars of the blogging world!  Thanks Van!

Until next time,
x's and o's,
Eartha

On the House Hunt - House Number One

It seems that I've been too busy on the house hunt lately to even talk about the house hunt! We've seen some real doozies - both good and bad. Some were pretty close to what we want but just weren't perfect. Thanks to all who have sent words of wisdom about this whole thing, by the way. It has really helped. If we end up staying at the ranch, we'll be happy as larks. It's just the possibility of possibly finding another cheaper home that we love and being able to have more money every month that keeps us in the search.

 I thought I'd walk you through one of the houses that peaked our interest enough to have us out there on the very first day.  I've hemmed and hawed about how much information to give on any houses that we look at and have decided that since I truly want these homes to find owners that will love them, I won't put their addresses out there. I don't want my dislike of certain things in otherwise possibly great houses to be found in google searches for the homes' addresses when potential buyers look them up. However, if you are interested in one of the houses that I talk about at any point and want to know where they are, by all means, drop me a line or give me your email address in the comments and I'll zap the information right over to you. I believe that every home has a perfect owner out there and even though I might not be it, I don't want to murk up the waters for anyone who might be.

Okay, disclaimers are out of the way now! This home is in a cute area called Donelson. There are tons and tons of original ranches over there so we do a lot of driving around in that area.  And there is a little Greek deli where the owner always remembers that I'm the "extra olive lady". It has a kind of small town feel but is close to downtown Nashville and also has two pretty good thrift stores. When this house came on the market, the interior pictures alone had us in the driveway within the hour. Plus, it's in a really great neighborhood. Let's take a tour!

This is the front of the house. It sits way up on a hill and has a large front porch. 

Here is the view from the porch. Love it! 

It was so quiet and peaceful up there. No noise from the street and birds singing everywhere. We could picture ourselves sitting up there day and night. Unfortunately, the realtor didn't put the lockbox on the front door so that this would be the first impression. Instead:

See the little door way to the back there past the piles of overflowing garbage? The door that you have to fight biting flies just to get into? That is where the lockbox was. It was a horrible first impression. From there, the basement just drove that first impression on home. I won't bother you with photos of the basement but I'll just say that it just didn't appeal to us at all. I love a good basement but we'll let the condition of the old fireplace speak for the entire bottom level.

A basement is truly a home's foundation and there were too many red flags down there for us to deal with.  Holes in the ceiling and walls, mold, water damage and other clues that let us know that this house hadn't been loved the way that we want a house to be. The top level of the home was so pretty but we just couldn't forgive the basement. Let's take a look at the top level though!

We really liked the kitchen. It had the original cabinets with copper hardware and Nutone exhaust fan. Original stovetop too. The original countertops would need to be replaced because they had burn marks in them and we would have replaced the floor with something more period. I still think about this kitchen actually. It felt like a very happy little kitchen. Here is a shot from the dining nook:

I really love those cabinets that open from both sides and the little pass-thru. This kitchen was really large and had a wall oven inset into a brick wall. I've had a thing for those ever since I was a kid watching "The Brady Bunch".

Off of the kitchen was this really cool den:

The bedrooms all had really great closet space and built-ins:

The living room was really spacious:

And here is a shot of the mural in the dining room:

And the pretty foyer:

The bathrooms were cute too:

I really loved this one with the green trim and inset pink sinks. And this wallpaper:

Here is the other bath: 

It had fleur-de-lis patterns here and there in the tile:



I realize while looking at these photos that this house is pretty fantastic. It's about 98% all-original and that's not something that you find in Nashville very often. It's hard to explain why we didn't go for it without having you all there in person.  It was in huge part because of the basement. It was fourteen hundred square feet of "what have we gotten ourselves into?" We could just tell that having to deal with the basement issues would suck our souls out. There comes a time when you're too old and too tired (and too close on the heels of finishing a four year restoration of your current house) that you and your bank account just say a consensual "no thanks".  And the only way that leaving our current little  ranch makes sense is if we gain financially from it. 
It actually broke our hearts because we loved the upstairs part so much. If that baby had been on a crawl space, we would be under contract right this minute. I also have no doubt that if we'd found this house years ago, we would have been gung-ho to tackle it. Just not now. 
It's interesting that basements are often the stuff of intensely terrifying scenes in horror movies because they're that way in real life too sometimes. Oh, and in case you doubt me, here is where I'd be doing laundry:

Not even that cute little fabric softener bear Snuggles would be willing to join me down there in the pit of laundry doom. That door to the left there is a combo elevator and panic room.

What say you? Would you forego the basement woes and just live upstairs and pretend like the downstairs doesn't exist? Or would just keep moving on until the right thing comes along? If someone happens to buy this house, please drop me a line. I'd love to know that it's in good hands because I think of it often.

Until next time,
x's and o's,
Eartha

The Square Dance Mother Load

Lisa and I went to an estate sale in our neck of the woods several weeks ago that promised to be chock-full of old Western and square dance items. The ad for the sale showed vintage dresses, crinolines,  string ties and all sorts of goodies that were going to be right up our alley. Of course, since we didn't get there before the doors opened, by the time that we did arrive an hour later, most everything had been sweeped clean. We enjoyed looking at the house and it wasn't a total wash as I found an album and Lisa picked up some pretty ties and a camera. We also saw this guy:



We didn't stop to offer him assistance so in retrospect I hope that he was fake and not under some kind of duress. I don't know about Lisa but I obviously was never a girl scout. I had my eyes on some unseen prize and was willing to forego the humanitarian mantra of "no man left behind".  Besides, I've learned from my true crime shows that once they're bloated like that, they've done gone home to be with Jesus. Once they bloat, that's all she wrote. 
  We were only there about ten minutes but before leaving, we went down to check out two small sheds on the property. In one shed, there seemed to be a lot of competition over a lawn mower and weed eater. Thankfully, that's not our bag. What is our bag?
Danger, baby. 

Now Lisa looks as safe as a swaddled lamb in this photo but right after I snapped it, a big honkin' wasp landed right on her forehead. Swarms of wasps continued to buzz around us as we investigated this shed with piles of unopened cardboard boxes and plastic Christmas garlands strewn inside. 
We knew that at any second, we could be knocked down by the wasps and become the stuff of whispered tales of warning between estate sale goers for decades to come. Did that stop us? Heck to the no. Lisa was digging on some old curtains and I love anything hidden in a filthy cardboard box that hasn't seen the light of day for decades. This was that kind of shed. It had been handed over to the wasp gods years ago. And probably quite a few spider gods. No woman should tread there but yet...we soldiered on. 
When Lisa suddenly pointed out an enormous box of magazines and I saw what was in there, well I almost stroked out like the guy in the rocking chair. I bring you...

Kapow! and Dosey Doe! 
Over three hundred square dance magazines from the 60's and 70's!   I was a bit worried that I'd never be able to afford them as a single magazine of the same kind was marked fifty cents inside of the house. Even though I suck at math, the numbers that rang up in my head had this score going way up towards the $150 range. I was worried but after showing the cashier the boxes in the shed (where she didn't want to step foot into), I got an "oh god, just get those nasty things out of that nasty shed and don't make me ever think about them again" deal at $30 for the whole lot of them as well as the record that I'd found.  I wonder if this sounds like a lot? But I don't think so because square dancing memorabilia is one of my favorite things....like....ever.  And since they were fifty to sixty cents per issue back in the day, I figure I got them on "discount". 

Thanks to Lisa who helped me drag that filthy weighty cardboard box full of magazines out of the shed, up the driveway and finally somehow into the trunk of her car (with wasps still trying to make a nest in her braid)  - and later for helping me get it out of the same trunk and onto my porch where it eventually fell apart, spilling out magazines like a musty piñata. I've only begun to barely look at them but here are some sneak peeks at the splendor:

Each page, article and ad within these magazines delight me to no end. Even the letters to the editor are fascinating as you will see with this one about a poodle called "Flip" who has been named after a couple's favorite square dance caller:


Aww! at him! 

I can't wait to have a big chunk of time to go through them all! On a related note, if you hear me talking about buying a "smaller house" and "downsizing" just slap me. I'm pretty sure that the Mister wishes that I'd collect something small like say, stamps.




Until next time,
x's and o's,
Eartha