Sunday, November 27, 2011

rustic and then we move right to the plaid

take a beat-up old license plate and make something of it!


Vintage Wyoming License plate clock
Vintage Wyoming License plate clock
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Vintage Wyoming License plate clock Vintage Wyoming License plate clock Vintage Wyoming License plate clock Vintage Wyoming License plate clock Vintage Wyoming License plate clock
It's recycled....a vintage license plate that once rode on the bumper of a Wyoming truck.
Love that bucking bronco and the cowboy with his hat in the air. A perfect clock for the Wyoming native, the man cave, or the cowboy who lives in a condo.
Deep gold metal vintage license plate, brown cowboy and horse, with a new clock movement. It's in rustic condition.
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It runs on one AA battery. You can hang it from the hook on the back or thread a rope thru the holes in the plate, that once were for screws....
I have a few other plates that I'll make a clock with if you'd rather have....
Maine, Montana, Arizona, Minnesota, Wisconsin, or Washington state.

more handmade goodies....
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http://www.etsy.com/shop/thatyountvillegirl

Clock Lobster






Rather have Arizona? I can do it!



Lots of Levis coming this week....One pair of new old stock....



Plaid...








and another US Navy pea coat...





and now...a delighful poem...

Mambo Cadillac

by Barbara Hamby

Drive me to the edge in your Mambo Cadillac,
turn left at the graveyard and gas that baby, the black

night ringing with its holy roller scream. I'll clock
you on the highway at three a.m., brother, amen, smack

the road as hard as we can, because I'm gonna crack
the world in two, make a hoodoo soup with chicken necks,

a gumbo with plutonium roux, a little snack
before the dirt-and-jalape├▒o stew that will shuck
the skin right off your slinky hips, Mr. I'm-not-stuck

in-a-middle-class-prison-with-someone-I-hate sack
of blues. Put on your high-wire shoes, Mr. Right, and stick

with me. I'm going nowhere fast, the burlesque
queen of this dim scene, I want to feel the wind, the Glock

in my mouth, going south, down-by-the-riverside shock
of the view. Take me to Shingles Fried Chicken Shack

in your Mambo Cadillac. I was gone, but I'm back
for good this time. I've taken a shine to daylight. Crank

up that radio, baby, put on some dance music
and shake your moneymaker, doll, rev it up to Mach
2, I'm talking to you, Mr. Magoo. Sit up, check

out that blonde with the leopard print tattoo. O she'll lick
the sugar right off your doughnut and bill you, too, speak

French while she do the do. Parlez-vous fran├žais? So, pick
me up tonight at ten in your Mambo Cadillac

Chile, Argentina, Peru. Take some time off work;
we're gonna be a lot longer than a week

or two. Is this D-day or Waterloo? White or black—

it's up to you. We'll be in Mexico tonight. Pack
a razor, pack some glue. Things fall apart off the track,

and that's where we'll be, baby, in our Mambo Cadillac,
cause you're looking for love, but I'm looking for a wreck.

"Mambo Cadillac" by Barbara Hamby, from All-Night Lingo Tango. © University of Pittsburg Press, 2009.