Some traditions are inherited. Others begin with us.

There are certain things you remember about a home long after you’ve forgotten what the furniture looked like.

The sound of the screen door closing. The flowers that came back every spring. The way the front porch looked at Christmas. That one silly decoration that somehow stayed in the same spot for years.

And sometimes, if you were lucky enough to grow up with one, there was a goose standing by the front door.

Not a real goose, although I certainly wouldn’t put that past some of us.

A concrete porch goose.

The kind that wore a bonnet for Easter, a little dress for Christmas, and something completely ridiculous for Halloween.

She probably had more outfits than you did.

And somehow, without anybody really thinking about it, she became part of what home looked like.

That’s the funny thing about nostalgia.

Sometimes the things we miss most weren’t particularly important when we had them.

They were just always there.

And then one day, they’re not.

Remember Those Old Porch Geese?

If you grew up around the Midwest during the 1980s or 1990s, chances are you’ve seen these girls before.

Concrete geese standing proudly beside the front steps, dressed for whatever holiday happened to be coming.

The porch goose became especially popular during the 1980s. Its exact origin is a little difficult to pin down, but the tradition is closely associated with the Midwest and the upper Ohio River Valley.

Ohio, Pennsylvania, and the surrounding states certainly knew a thing or two about dressing up a lawn ornament.

Some had homemade outfits. Others had entire wardrobes. Some stood beside flowerpots, while others practically greeted every person who came up the driveway.

They weren’t fancy.

They weren’t expensive works of art.

They were just part of home.

And I think that’s why people remember them so fondly.

Because when we think about childhood, we don’t always remember the expensive things.

Sometimes we remember the little decorations that came out every holiday. The same ceramic dish on Grandma’s table. The same flowers beside the steps.

The same goose wearing the same ridiculous Christmas outfit year after year.

Those ordinary things became familiar.

And familiar things have a funny way of becoming precious.

But as the years went by, those porch geese became harder and harder to find.

Which brings me to how this whole adventure started.

Why I Decided to Make My Own

I’ve always loved vintage. Not just the objects themselves, but the stories behind them.

I love finding something that reminds somebody of their childhood, their grandmother’s house, or a little piece of life they haven’t thought about in years.

And porch geese fit right into that feeling.

The problem?

Finding an original vintage concrete porch goose is almost like finding a needle in a haystack.

And if you do happen to find one, there’s a good chance her neck is broken, her body is damaged, or she’s simply too far gone to bring back.

After all, these girls have spent decades standing outside, surviving Ohio winters, summer storms, and who knows what else.

I couldn’t tell you how many older geese I’ve come across with broken necks.

And I kept thinking how sad it was that something so many people remembered fondly was becoming so difficult to find in decent condition.

I wanted to bring them back.

But I also wanted to do something a little different.

I didn’t want to simply recreate a lawn ornament.

I wanted to make something that had the potential to become somebody’s vintage treasure someday.

Something that could stand outside a family’s home for years, collecting memories along the way.

And that’s where the VT55 Porch Goose began.

Now, if you know me, you know I’m not always satisfied with simply buying something and calling it a day.

Sometimes I have to figure out how to make it myself.

Apparently, this time that meant learning how to make concrete geese.

Because why not? 😂

Made by My Hands, With the Future in Mind

Each VT55 Porch Goose begins with me.

I make them in small batches, carefully pouring the concrete into molds and allowing each one to take shape.

But there’s one detail I was determined to include from the beginning.

Every VT55 Porch Goose has a steel rod reinforcing her neck.

Remember all those beautiful old geese with broken necks?

I wanted to give mine a little extra strength, because if I’m hoping these girls will be around for generations, I want to give them the best chance possible.

Then comes one of the parts I enjoy most.

Painting.

I’ve always loved the look of something that’s already lived a little.

Old furniture with worn edges. Soft, faded colors. Pieces that look like they could have been sitting in the same farmhouse for fifty years.

There’s a warmth to that kind of finish that I’ve always been drawn to.

And I wanted my geese to have it.

I don’t want them to look shiny, brand-new, and mass-produced.

I want them to look like they belong beside an old farmhouse porch, a weathered wooden door, or a flower garden that’s been growing in the same spot for generations.

So I paint each one individually in my signature vintage style.

I layer the darker colors, soften them with whitewashing, and carefully bring out the details until each goose has that gently aged appearance I love so much.

The feathers, the beak, the feet, the little expression on her face.

Every girl develops her own personality.

No two are ever exactly alike.

And that’s exactly how I want it.

Because the homes they’re going to won’t be exactly alike either.

My Favorite Part: The Little Red Heart

Now, this is probably the most meaningful part of the entire process for me.

And it’s something I knew I wanted to do from the very beginning.

I place a tiny red heart inside every single VT55 Porch Goose.

You won’t see it when she’s finished.

You won’t see it when she’s standing by your door or wearing some ridiculous little holiday outfit.

But you’ll always know it’s there.

And there’s a reason for that.

Think about where she’s going to stand.

Right outside your front door.

In that little space where the outside world ends and home begins.

She’ll be there when you pull into the driveway after a really long day.

She’ll greet the kids when they come home from school.

She’ll stand beside the steps when friends and family come over.

She’ll be there for the holidays, the birthdays, the first days of school, and all those ordinary Tuesdays that nobody thinks to remember.

And she’ll probably witness more Amazon deliveries than either of us would care to admit.

But here’s what I love about that.

Over time, she’ll become familiar.

Something you expect to see when you come home.

Something the kids recognize.

Something the neighbors might joke about.

And eventually, maybe something the family couldn’t imagine not having.

I know she’s made of concrete.

Trust me, I’m the one pouring it. 😂

But I also know that ordinary things can become part of our lives in extraordinary ways.

A favorite chair.

An old Christmas ornament.

The ceramic dish that always sat on Grandma’s table.

Those things aren’t precious because of what they’re made from.

They’re precious because of the people and memories we associate with them.

That’s what I hope for my geese.

She may be made of concrete, but she’s meant to become family. And family deserves a heart.

Yes, My Geese Have Birthdays

And if the little red heart wasn’t enough to convince you that I’m completely invested in these girls, let me tell you something else.

They have birthdays.

Actual birthdays.

Apparently, I’m now the kind of woman who celebrates the birth of concrete geese.

We’ve all made choices.

But there’s a reason behind this little tradition, too.

The day I lift each goose from her mold becomes her birthday.

Underneath her, I permanently mark VT55, her birth date, and an individual number that belongs only to her.

It’s a small record of exactly where her story began.

Not just another goose sitting on a shelf.

But a particular goose, made on a particular day, waiting to find her particular home.

I love imagining somebody turning her over twenty or thirty years from now and discovering those markings.

Maybe they’ll smile.

Maybe they’ll remember the day they brought her home.

Or maybe they’ll laugh because their grandmother apparently bought a goose with a birthday.

Either way, I love knowing that part of her history will always be there.

I give her the beginning.

Everything that happens afterward belongs to you.

And Then Someone Buys Her an Outfit…

Here’s where things start getting a little ridiculous.

You bring home a goose.

Just one.

You put her by the front door because you think she’s adorable.

Perfectly innocent.

And then you see a little Christmas outfit.

Well, obviously she needs something festive.

So you buy it.

Then Easter comes around.

And Halloween.

And before you know it, this concrete goose has a seasonal wardrobe and somebody in your family is asking whether she’s dressed appropriately for the occasion.

Apparently, this is who you are now.

But that’s exactly the kind of thing I love.

Because family traditions rarely announce themselves.

Nobody sits everybody down at the kitchen table and declares that you’re about to begin a meaningful tradition that will be remembered for generations.

Usually, it happens much more naturally.

Somebody buys a silly decoration.

The kids think it’s funny.

Someone gives her a name.

And suddenly, every holiday, there’s a little discussion about what the goose should wear.

Maybe the kids argue over the Christmas dress.

Maybe somebody insists she needs a bonnet for Easter.

Maybe her Halloween costume becomes the highlight of the front porch.

And before you know it, the same silly hat is appearing in family pictures year after year.

You didn’t plan a tradition.

You just started one.

The Days We Don’t Think to Remember

We take photographs of birthdays, Christmas mornings, graduations, and special occasions.

We save those pictures because we know those days matter.

But most of our lives happen between the special occasions.

The mornings when everybody’s rushing out the door.

The afternoons when the kids are playing outside.

The evenings when somebody comes home exhausted and drops their keys on the counter.

The grocery trips.

The school mornings.

The ordinary Tuesdays.

Those are the days that quietly make up our lives.

And I love imagining a VT55 Porch Goose standing beside the front door through all of them.

Maybe she’s in the background of a picture of the kids on their first day of school.

Maybe she’s standing beside a little girl in her Halloween costume, wearing a costume of her own.

Maybe she’s there in a photograph of the family standing outside on Christmas morning.

And then, years later, somebody is looking through those old pictures.

The kids are older.

The house looks different.

Maybe the family doesn’t even live there anymore.

And there she is.

That same silly goose.

Standing in the background of so many memories.

Not because she was the important part of the picture.

But because she was there while the important things were happening.

And somehow, that makes her important, too.

“She Used to Be Grandma’s.”

This is the part that really gets me.

Imagine a little child standing on the front steps, carefully straightening the goose’s bonnet.

Maybe they’re getting ready for Easter.

Maybe they’re helping Grandma dress her for Christmas.

Maybe they’re arguing with their brother or sister because they think the goose should wear a different outfit.

Years pass.

Those children grow up.

The holidays change.

Life gets busy.

And one day, that goose finds herself standing on another porch.

Maybe the paint has aged a little more.

Maybe she has a different outfit.

But she’s still there.

And now there’s another little pair of hands straightening her hat.

“Where did this goose come from?”

And somebody says:

“She used to be Grandma’s.”

Just like that, she’s no longer some concrete goose somebody bought years ago.

She’s a memory.

A reminder of childhood.

A little piece of somebody they loved.

The goose everyone once teased you about becomes the one nobody would dream of parting with.

That’s what I hope to create.

Not simply something people buy.

Something worth keeping.

Something worth loving.

Something worth passing down.

Holiday wardrobe and all.

Made to Become Vintage

Here’s something I’ve always found beautiful about vintage things.

Everything vintage was once new.

Every old dish, every piece of furniture, every family Christmas ornament had a first day in somebody’s home.

There was a time when nobody knew whether it would be kept.

Nobody knew whether it would be passed down.

Nobody knew whether it would still matter decades later.

The memories hadn’t happened yet.

And that’s exactly where my porch geese begin.

They’re new.

Their stories haven’t been written.

They haven’t stood through years of holidays.

They haven’t been dressed by little hands or appeared in old family photographs.

They haven’t become the decoration everybody insists on keeping.

Not yet.

But I love imagining what comes next.

I can make the goose.

I can reinforce her neck, carefully paint her, give her a number, a birthday, and that tiny red heart.

I can give her the vintage look I love.

But I can’t give her the memories that will eventually make her special.

Only you can do that.

Your home.

Your family.

Your traditions.

Your ordinary days.

And I think that’s the most beautiful part of the entire process.

I’m creating something new with the hope that someday, it becomes something old that somebody treasures.

A Little Goose Care (Please Read!)

Before your girl settles into her new home, there are two important things to remember: never pick her up by the neck, and never slide or drag her.

Concrete is strong, but it isn’t made to be scraped across the ground. When you slide a heavy concrete goose across a table, sidewalk, or porch, the bottom edges rub against that hard surface. Those edges can chip, just like the corner of a concrete step can chip when it gets bumped. That’s why her base needs a little extra care when you’re moving her.

And what about her neck? Even though I put a steel rod inside to make it stronger, her neck is still much narrower than her body. Picking her up by the neck puts the weight of the whole goose on that one small area. That can cause damage, so please don’t use her neck as a handle.

The right way to move her is simple: Use both hands, support her from underneath the body and base, lift her completely off the surface, and gently set her down in her new spot.

That’s all! Pick her up, don’t drag her, and let her neck do what it does best: show off those ridiculous outfits. 🪿❤️

If You’ve Just Brought One of My Girls Home…

First of all, thank you.

If you’re reading this because you scanned the little card tied around your goose’s neck, I’m so happy she found her way to you.

Now you know a little more about where she came from.

You know why I wanted to bring back this old tradition.

You know why there’s a steel rod reinforcing her neck, why I give her that gently aged finish, and why she has her own number and birthday.

And you know about that tiny red heart.

The one you’ll never see, but will always know is there.

My part of her story is finished.

Now comes my favorite part.

Yours.

Give her a name.

Put her somewhere she’ll greet the people you love.

Dress her for the holidays.

Let the kids pick out something ridiculous.

Take pictures with her, even on the ordinary days.

And who knows?

Maybe one day, somebody will look at that same goose and remember the home they grew up in.

Maybe she’ll become a tradition you never realized you were starting.

And maybe, many years from now, somebody will say, “She used to be Grandma’s.”

If that happens, I hope you know how much it would mean to me.

Because that’s exactly what I made her for.

And If You’re Thinking About Starting Your Own Tradition…

Maybe you remember one from your childhood.

Maybe you’ve spent years trying to find an old porch goose in good condition.

Or maybe you’ve never owned one in your life, but you’ve suddenly realized your front porch could use a little personality.

Either way, I’d love for one of my girls to become part of your home.

Each VT55 Porch Goose is individually handmade, numbered, dated, and finished with care.

They’re available in person through Vintage Treasures 1955 in Columbiana, Ohio.

And of course, there are outfits and accessories to keep her appropriately dressed for all of life’s important occasions.

You can explore the shop and goose accessories at VintageTreasures1955.com.

Bring her home.

Give her a name.

Start a tradition.

And give the neighbors something to talk about.

Because sometimes the smallest, silliest things become the memories we treasure most.

And years from now, I hope one of those memories begins with a little concrete goose.

Made by my hands.

With a tiny red heart inside.

And a whole lifetime of memories waiting to happen.

She’s more than a concrete goose.

She’s a little piece of home.

With love,

Ela ❤️

Vintage Treasures 1955

Made to Become Vintage.