American Sweetheart and Pie

American Sweetheart is a pattern of Depression Glass made by MacBeth-Evans from 1930 to 1936.



I have a few pieces. They go well with pie.



And the fork that I found buried in the yard.





( One day I might find the old, school house light to use in the kitchen where the wires are hanging down.)

Books........

Larry over at Simpson's Folly tagged me over a week ago asking for 7 book facts about me.

Since I have been short on time lately........I am cheating.

If I say that I am cheating.....is that really cheating since at this point ya'll all know that I am cheating? And since this really is not a test or taxes I guess it just really would not be cheating at all, anyway........

A few months back I posted a little synopsis of some of the books around ThirteenEleven. I grew up in a book family. My father's library (an enclosed garage) was piled high with books. Row after row, shelf after shelf, pile after pile. Books...Books...Books.... So.......Of course there are just a couple of books around ThirteenEleven.


The book that I am currently reading is Tom Franklin's Smonk.


Tom writes about the area in South Alabama where my grandfather's grandfather settled....."back in the day." ( I borrowed the book from Papa Joe...Thank you)


CLICK HERE. If you missed the first post on "Oh....All those Books...."


And if you wanna play this tag....consider yourself tagged and post about your books or 7 book facts about you.

Also make sure you check out Simpson's Folly, where you can read all about Larry and Annette's adventure in fixin' up their Edwardian Foursquare in Kansas.

State Bank....

All this talk about banks in the news the past couple of days made me think of my little bank.




See......It is a State Bank.




It was my grandfathers. My dad's dad. He grew up to be an accountant.




It is called a Puzzle Bank. If you turn that little key up there. The walls fall in, and the money flows out. I could say more about that. But I won't.



You see.... I tried that once. Taking the bank apart. The stairs were on the wrong side. Not in front of the door. It was the most difficult thing to ever put back together. I could say more about that too.... but I won't.





( Did you notice the floors? They don't look that good in person.)

The Girl in the Straw Hat.....

She called my name from a box in a flea market. This tiny tintype image of a girl. A girl that is not happy to be there, at that moment, sitting very, very still, wearing the hat. The hat her mother bought for her with egg money.


Was it the blushed cheeks? The tilted hat? The pin curls? The too large for her body folded hands? Or the possible outlines of a Hitchcock chair? I am not sure what exactly enticed me to bring her home for a $1.


Maybe it was the soulful eyes?


What is her story?