Delphine Tinker’s Vintage Shop

Delphine Tinker’s Paris Flea Market is the most popular shop in the tiny town of Mirth, which is saying quite a lot really, because the town’s two other stores, Marsh’s Mercantile and Mirth Lumber & Supply, are very lovely, too. Delphine’s sister, Clara Plum, runs her bakery from home, so the bakery really doesn’t count.

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The shop is informally known as Paris, as folks in Mirth get such a kick out of saying “I’m running to Paris,” whenever they take a trip into town.

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One might wonder how Delphine acquired the treasure trove of knick-knacks and what-nots that line the shelves and table-tops of her shop, given that Mirth is surrounded for miles by nothing but pine forests, mountains, rivers and lakes. As you can imagine, sales were not brisk at the shop, but money really isn’t an issue for Delphine or Clara. Their needs are few.

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The twin girls, orphaned shortly after they were born, were raised at Winterberry Cottage, by their Great Aunt Aggie. Aunt Aggie, the cottage, Loon Lake, its surrounding woods, flora and fauna were all the girls needed to be happy.

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Still, Delphine decided to see the world, and Aunt Aggie and Clara encouraged her to follow her heart. They gave her a rousing send-off. So Delphine went off to a big city college, far, far away.

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She learned more about her beloved plants, animals and trees. Then she spent years, floating like a dandelion puff, borne on a breeze from one continent to another, collecting adventures and admirers everywhere she went.

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Clara eagerly awaited the richly detailed letters and giant wood crates Delphine sent home. She’d collect them at the train station and then stow them away in the big red barn at Hooper’s farm.

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After a childhood spent gamboling through the woods, it was only natural that Delphine found fame writing about botany. Her books and lectures gained her a devout following, including the dashing young doctor, Hamilton Tinker, who would become her husband.

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When her beloved Hammy passed away, Delphine finally returned home to Mirth, Winterberry cottage, and her darling Clara, to stay.

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She unpacked the crates that Clara had stowed away, and Delphine Tinker’s Paris Flea Market was born.

That is how their story begins…


Hi everyone, 

I hope this finds you warm and cozy.

Here in Mound, Minnesota, you’ll find us weirdos remarking what a warm day it is with the sun shining, when the temperature is a mere 12 degrees. I don’t mind the cold myself, as it gives me an excuse to stay inside and play with my minis, work on Valentine cards or stock my Etsy store with more vintage goodies. 

Vintage shops have been on my mind a lot lately. Even though I started doing flea markets and selling online last year because I had so many of my mother’s amassed “treasures” to sell, it seems I’ve been bitten by the family bug, too. I was seduced by the thrill of the thrift store discovery and my proclivity for falling in love with the strangest things, like Kewpie dolls or Tammis Keefe handkerchiefs. Lots of my discoveries find their way to Fiddle Dee Doo Dah! Please visit and take a peek! I’m running a Sweetheart Sale through February 15th. 

Here are some of the artists whose miniatures appear in Delphine Tinker’s Paris Flea Market.

L Delaney

Kim’s Miniatures

Lugart Petit

Mundorosa 

Weston Miniature

 

 

 

Imagination: The Best Medicine

There is a quote attributed to Theo Van Gogh, taken from a letter written to his brother the painter, Vincent. I read the original, and it doesn’t sound much like the quote as we know it today, but I love the quote anyway. It says, “To know God is to love many things.”

Adulting is hard. The older I get, the more I cherish and need my creative escapes. I think it’s so important for children and adults alike to have an escape valve to help them release the pressure of everyday life, technology and news of the world.

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My Fisher Price Little People had 2 homes, a farm, a houseboat and a private jet. Little people, living large.

Growing up an only child, I cultivated the ability to entertain myself, as well as a life-long love of creating tiny worlds filled with family, friends and lots of animals to keep me company. My love of all things tiny started with Fisher Price Little People. I remember vividly being very sick once, maybe 4 years old, and the only thing that made me feel better was my Grandma pulling out a Little People A-Frame Cottage that she was saving to give me at Christmas. I was immersed in another world and things didn’t feel quite so bad.

Then in junior high, I read Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie, and fell in love with Laura Wingfield’s fragile world of crystal animals. In this small refuge, anything was possible. Everything was manageable.

So you can imagine my unbridled joy when I got my first true writing job creating catalog and box copy at Department 56, the company renowned for their amazing Christmas Villages and Snowbabies. Bringing to life the miniature people who populated the fictional city of Merryville remains one of the highlights of my career to this day.

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A winter catalog from my time at Department 56.
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Hi! I’m Morty

Then some pretty major and traumatic life events occurred in my thirties and suddenly I felt the weight of the adult world on my shoulders. If I’d been able to have kids, maybe the wonder of experiencing the world through their eyes would have sustained me. But I lost my sense of fun. Of play. I lost my joy. I was at a new job, that wasn’t fun, which unfortunately compounded my lack of “joie de vivre.” And that’s when one day I came across a shop on Etsy called Monsters Etc. and met my friend Ruti Dan, a kindred spirit. Here was another adult, with a “real world” day job, who spent her free time making art dolls. NOT for kids.

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Unfamiliar with human customs…like confetti cake, or cake in general.

After Morty arrived, everything changed. I started finding all kinds of crazy ways to photograph him, singing karaoke, playing with the copier at work, investigating mossy woods. The next thing I knew I had started creating small vignettes of my own. I incorporated felted creatures I purchased from Kit Lane on Etsy, and then started making my own felty guys. I propped them with funny trinkets you might find in a gumball machine. Then I found them a red model convertible and a little guitar. Or I propped them in front of the alligators when I visited Avery Island in Louisiana. Before I knew it, I was buying a gigantic dollhouse. My PayPal account was more than happy to accommodate my desire for all things teensy-tiny, and my collection of itsy bitsy shabby chic decor and miniature cakes grew exponentially. As I tell my husband, it’s cheaper than redecorating the house. I can design the room of my dreams in miniature.

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Just an evening of desserts and champagne, with the anti-social Mr. Mouse.

And eventually I graduated to this…

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My spring bake shop, Fattycakes’ Bakery

and this…

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Ms. Clara Plum at work in her kitchen.

and this.

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Making Elvis Presley’s favorite – the peanut butter and banana sandwich

One of the HUGE positives of social media is the way a person can find a group of devoted, like-minded people who share a passion for just about everything and anything. I discovered that there were other mini-devotees, who were just as excited and fascinated with all things mini as I was.

I started chatting with the most amazing and inspiring people, and meeting artists who were pursuing vibrant careers based on their art.  Lauren Delaney. Bridget McCarthy. Ana Mimundorosa. Lugart Petit. Paris Miniatures. A Lavender Dilly. PetitDlicious. Kim’s Mini Bakery.  That’s just to name a few.

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A Marie Antoinette roombox at the Tom Bishop International Miniatures Show.

I traveled alone to Chicago to attend my first International Miniatures Show, where I rode in an elevator with a REAL prince (not Harry, unfortunately). He had traveled from the Arab peninsula to Chicago to pursue his passion for miniatures. I met some of my favorite artists in person and others from Spain, Italy, France, Ireland and so many more countries. I took classes from a master woodworker from Ireland, learning to hand-finish miniature cabinetry. And I saw the most magnificent dollhouses and tiny pieces that cost thousands of dollars. One day soon I hope to return and visit the world-renowned Thorne Miniature Rooms at The Art Institute of Chicago.

Following that simple whim, one day 8 years ago, when I was well, well, well beyond a reasonable age to be playing with dolls, I threw caution to the wind and allowed myself to do something silly. I bought an art doll named Morty from half-way around the world, and he reintroduced me to what I’d been missing so desperately – joy.

Through letting my imagination run wild, and indulging my childhood passions, I was able to gradually let go of some of my sadness, put the world on pause and just play. I think that’s really what we need now more than ever, grown-ups and kids alike. So the next time you see that metaphorical merry-go-round with it’s magical horses, merry music, and flashing lights, go ahead and jump on. Buy yourself that giant stuffed cheeseburger pillow. Or the light saber you’ve had your eye on for months now. It could change your life.

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Let your imagination bloom.

Birding – Nature’s Yoga

 

A bird does not sing because it has an answer. A bird sings because it has a song.

– Joan Walsh Anglund

There is only one thing in life that motivates me to wash a window, and that’s to better appreciate the fine details of the birds gathered at my feeder.

Just outside my window there is a whole bustling world of little creatures performing a show just for me.

Nature is one of my greatest inspirations, and the most effective anti-depressant available without a prescription. Birds make me unspeakably happy, just by being. All I have to do is provide them a little enticement, some food, a garden, some water and they are my faithful friends year round.

Stepping outside on a cold winter morning, to take out the trash, I hear cheerful songs surrounding me in all directions, from birds on high, unseen in the tall trees dotting the suburban landscape.  A tell-tale monkey call lets me know a pileated woodpecker is nearby, and if I’m lucky he will come swooping by with his pterodactyl–like head and giant wing-span, with all his red-mohawked glory.

Pileated Woodpecker (dryocopus pileatus)

I read somewhere that birdwatching is nature’s yoga. It helps us all slow down and breathe.

There is no instant gratification in bird-watching. If you want a photo of a bird, you will never capture it by making a mad dash for your iPhone. You will have to sit quietly. As you patiently wait, you’ll gradually become more aware of sound, of birdsong, wind, the leaves rustling. You’ll begin to watch for movement and color, staring fixedly between branches and leaves. During this quiet observation, you begin to take note of your own breathing, your heart rate slowing. It’s like meditation.

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Bird-watching is also good for mental alertness and acuity. When you go to a museum, you study paintings, brushstrokes, a painter’s use of light and shadow. When you go to a city, you may study the architecture,  a certain style, arches, columns, or building materials. When you see a fashion show, you study the sophistication or elements of the design, the intricate details of beading or lace, the quality of the fabrics.

With birding, the objects of your study are typically hopping, flitting, flying or seeking cover. Do you know how many types of finches, sparrows and warblers there are? Do you know how difficult it is to discern one hawk from another? A zillion and yes. I know.

Even with guidebooks at the ready, I have trouble distinguishing between finches and warblers, so similar are the color and marking of their feathers. There are so many different variables in look and behaviors, type of beak, wing-patterns, the shape of a tail. tail, the notes of a birdsong. If you’re very lucky, you will see operatic displays of romance or jealousy in territorial birds or mating pairs. I once saw a breeding pair of pileateds flying back and forth from my suet log to the tree and regurgitating food in the mouth of a baby woodpecker. I never regurgitation could be so adorable.

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An Eagle from the Wildlife Rehab Center who attended Mark & Michelle’s wedding.

Bird-watching can also lead to human romance. Who needs eHarmony when you’re part of a passionate community of birders? My friends Mark and Michelle met through a birding group on Facebook. They go bird-banding together, at night, with coal miner lights strapped to their heads. They rescue raptors. They travel to exciting birding destinations, like South America. They built a huge backyard waterfall and pond to attract more birds to their yard. Did I mention that among the most distinguished guests at their wedding, were several raptors from the rehabilitation center where Michelle volunteers?

Mark who works at All Seasons Wild Bird Store in Minnetonka, says”Winter birds, with their spring songs and colorful attire, remind a person that life should be happy, not sad.”

If you’d like to become a backyard birder and enjoy all the mental and physical benefits, here is a variety of seed to help you get started. My $15 membership at my local Wild Bird Store, saves me 10% off all my purchases.

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Sunflower chips attract all the little songbirds. Especially my darling chickadees and nuthatches. Nuthatches are the only birds that run head first down a tree trunk. The Berry Nutty blend is a higher calorie blend, great for winter feeding because of its critical nutrients and antioxidants. I like to put out a bowl of peanuts especially for the blue jays, and watch them come and go like planes at the airport. They cache their nuts and can remember hiding spots months later. Golden Safflower is another songbird favorite, but people like it, because the squirrels don’t. A squirrel has gotta eat, too, though! And nyger thistle is a favorite of finches, chickadees and ground-feeding juncos in winter.

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Finally, the best birding gift I ever received was a woodpecker log, over a decade ago now. It’s a birch log feeder with holes drilled to fit these year-round, no mess suet plugs. I can sit at my window and watch seven different varieties of woodpeckers come to feed. I’ve seen cardinals and flickers eat from it as well.

 

I’d like to share a small portion from a poem written by one of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver. The poem is entitled Snow Geese, from her collection of poems, “Why I Wake Early.”

“The geese

flew on.

I have never

seen them again.

Maybe I will, someday, somewhere.

Maybe I won’t.

It doesn’t matter.

What matters

is that, when I saw them,

I saw them

As through the veil, secretly, joyfully, clearly.”

If feeding the birds in your own yard isn’t an option for you, I encourage you to check out one of my favorite pages on Facebook, Ricky Montgomery’s Wildlife. His feeder cameras are amazing.