Labor Day Weekend

 Typically Labor Day involves visiting family, specifically my sister usually comes up from the Bay Area for the holiday weekend, but this year it was quiet. My sister and I spent a lot of time together this Summer, so we each spent the holiday weekend at our respective  homes. 

Saturday Beth and I headed out for a Vintage road trip to Loomis to visit the shops in the  High Hand Fruit Sheds.   

Oh my goodness, there was the most beautiful nursery there, it was like walking around an amazing park-like garden. Beth picked up a few plants for her garden. 

Inside the Fruit Sheds was just as charming. 

We grabbed lunch to-go at the Conservatory Deli, 

yummy chicken salad sandwiches with homemade potato chips 

I picked up this picture at The Vintage Bricoleur  

It is called 'Golden Hours'.

 ♥ I love it ♥

I hung it above my entertainment center in my living room. 

I rarely purchased pictures/art for the walls of my home. I have lots of 'homemade' art hanging, cross stitch pictures, shelves to hold trinkets, painted signs, and such like things. 

We were a little limited on time for this trip, but intend to make another one in the near future. We made it home just in time to meet up with Tonya and Kristina, and head up to Chico for some fun fabric hunting. I came home empty handed of fabric, but we also stopped in at the Plant Barn , yes Beth needed MORE garden plants, and I picked up this vintage medicine cabinet front that I will be using as a mirror in the guest bathroom. I've been collecting several items for the 'bathroom re-do', ya the one I haven't even started yet! 

By the way I never realized how hard it would be to take a picture of a mirror. I had to sit way to the side, to avoid seeing myself in the mirror. The reflection is of my couch and foot stool- (another item that needs to be worked on).

Sunday was spent at home canning up more pickles and another blackberry pie. 

What is it about blackberry pie that is so reminiscent of Summer? 

The heat, the sweetness, the soft reminder of the days of my childhood. 

The childhood ranch, where I grew up, had blackberry vines down at the creeks, and we would go out with Mom and pick the berries, careful of the thorns, bees and the occasional water snake, wearing long sleeves for protection, and eating them faster than we could pick them. I would watch as she baked the pie, admiring its beauty and just waiting for that first mouthwatering taste when dessert finally arrived.  In the years to follow into my adulthood, picking the prized berries out by the river in the Rock Piles, here in my now home-town. 

Pie always wins, 

over cakes, cookies, ice cream or candy.

The Girasole Lady