Chicagoland is silly with markets and bazaars.

One one hand, you have the city attracting nationally-known shows like Renegade Craft and the International Vintage Poster Fair. On the other, you have the rest of Illinois, where self-reliant folk have amassed generation upon generation of vintage goods and have honed traditional skills (I'll bet a dollar every Illinoisan reading this has gone to Amish Country at least once). This creates a crafty/vintagey apex to feed my constant obsession with "things".

Over the 4th of July weekend I took a trip to the Randolph Street Market in Chicago. 
Considering Chicago is a mere 30 minute drive and my friends live there, I have no excuse for not going more than I do. It was great. I was so focused on finding good stuff that I forgot I was supposed to be taking photos for the first half of the trip.

Here are a few camera phone shots gussied up by Instagram:

Oh, look: jars of things. I love jars of things! I almost bought one with screws in it, but JB talked some sense into me. I sort of still want one.

More after the jump...

I know it's been a minute since my last post, but I have been a busy little bee. I've spent my summer thrifting, making things, and dealing with the odd anomaly. I had a case of furnace birds, for instance.

I came home from work a few weeks ago to find Stella and Grayson going to seizures on and around my dining room table. The source of all the excitement was a sparrow who had, somehow, made his way into my apartment and who was chilling out on my ceiling fan. I packed the cats away in a bedroom, turned all the lights off, turned the porch light on, opened the front door, and hit the deck. The bird was clearly stressed out and spent some time flying into walls and dive-bombing me before eventually flying out the front door (then flying back in, then leaving for good).

After giving the apartment a good scrub-down I went to bed, only to be awoken by scratching noises coming from my utility closet. 

Oh, no. 

In my half-awake haze I imagined it to be some sort of R.O.U.S. or similarly scary and fictional animal. It took a good amount of time to psych myself up enough to put my feet on the ground. As I got closer to the closet (in my snow boots) I heard a frenzied chirping. 

Way less scary, but still disconcerting.

Again, I packed the cats away, turned of the lights, opened the front door, and slowly opened the utility closet.

Nothing happened.

I waited.

Eventually the scratching resumed and a terrified and (probably) sweaty sparrow clawed its way out of my furnace vent. He eventually settled under my dining room table, where I let him collect himself before coaxing him out the front door. 

If you don't believe me, see for yourself:

I guess they were trying to make a nest in my furnace spout and fell in. 

Anyway, I haven't come home to any furnace birds in a while, and I promise to post more than once a month from now on.

On to the tutorial!!

More after the jump...