Driftwood Neighborhood Yard Sale Results, in order:
Rained hard at 5 AM when I was going to bed. I hoped and prayed yard sale would be rained out. It was not.
Arrived at house that was distributing maps at 7:45 (modestly early). They had no maps as the appointed mapmaker dropped the ball. A few other people meandering about. Bought two little handmade shiny decorative bowls, orange clay with white relief design. Very cute and different. Someone will get these with candy in them for Christmas. $2.50. Passed up on kitchen stool which lady said she loved but the only thing that ever warmed the seat was a pile of junk, so out it goes. These people were very jolly. Oh, I also bought a Pennsylvania Dutch traditional recipes for PIES and PASTRIES booklet. A cartoon of a very jolly friendly lady holding a pie is on front. She wears a cap thingy and white apron. Written inside: Kissin' wears out . . . cookin' don't. This cost me 10 cents. I'm pretty sure it will go in my Thrift Shop pile. No, I'm positive it will. It has the odor of Premium Aged Dust, I'm suffocating even as I type because it is laying right in front of me. Nice knowing you, Little Booklet. I needed you like a hole in the head anyway.
Around the corner at a sale I met the most adorable dog. They had a box of children's books, but all modern stuff. Well-used books, happy to report. Did see Little House on the Prairie.
Next stop, lovely mini European chateau, home of the lovely couple I met last week, the ones who informed me of yard sale and were going to simplify and model their lives after the French. Mike bought a couple of music CD's for his singing class for .50 each, James Taylor and Carole King. While we were there, someone bought a canoe for $200. Some haggling went on. I don't haggle, it doesn't suit my personality. That isn't good, is it?
Then we parked our car in my friend's driveway and the three of us walked the neighborhood together. Met some of friend's neighbors. I asked one lady I know, How early did people arrive for this 8 o'clock sale? 7:00, she said. Wasn't that a wicked waste of breath? She told me she had old cloth dolls for sale for $2 each and her neighbor said, You need to add two zeros behind your 2's. So the lady did add one zero behind the 2's and sold them at 7:00 AM sharp to an antique dealer. Went by and petted dog again. Returned to "map" house. I admired an omelet pan. The price tag said, Great omelet pan! SO durable - you can leave it in your will - $2.00. The lady thought it came from an industrial kitchen supply. My friend insisted on buying it for me. It is very cute, but I didn't have to have it. It is soaking in kitchen sink, we'll see if I can make it as pretty as it is durable. We'll also have omelets for lunch after church tomorrow. Lesson: Don't admire things around friend, she's generous to a fault. She's a TOTAL sweetheart, we adore her. Also bought extra thick pale pink terrycloth highly absorbent composition Wilson sport's headband, new in wrapper, 2003 $.50. I said to my friend, I use headbands to hold my hair off my face for washing. She said, Pawsh, just wash your face. And she demonstrated. My friend does not have time for nonsense.
Made our browsing way back to mini chateau and had fun talking. Found out that the nice lady had lived in Michigan at one point, of course. Across the tree shaded little road I picked up a pack of note cards. The picture on front looks a real quilt, but flip it over and you will read,"It may look like a cloth quilt, but it's not." Instead, these cards are pictures of different quilts that were hand carved from blocks of wood and painted. Some of you will probably get one of these in the mail. For all the world they look like a photograph of a real quilt. $1.00. Mike held up a video, still in cellophane brand new, and asked if I wanted it. It was the movie Last Time I Saw Paris starring Elizabeth Taylor. Of course I wanted it. I said we'd watch it tonight, which didn't happen. $1.00.
Went back across road to chateau because friend wanted Mike to see the back yard. Totally spectacular, like last time I saw it. Bought a muted green silk dress jacket for Mike for a nothing $5.00. Perfect condition, man just didn't wear that color. While I was at it, spotted silky placemats and napkins. They were gold-ish and had beads sewn on the edge. I like cloth napkins for breadbasket liners. The lady said she buys lots of her things in France. The tag on these said Pottery Barn. I think it's fun to have something from Pottery Barn, France. $5.00. Then she showed my a St. John white knit party jumpsuit with silvery embellishments across the front. Thank goodness, upon closer inspection, it had moth holes (thank goodness for me, not for her). I would look ridiculous in anything that high end. RIDICULOUS. But I told lady, We keep coming back to your chateau and buying stuff. Pleasant is the word to describe the whole affair. WHY? won't the italics go off? I walked off with a free cloth bag to hold all my junk because if you spent $5 you got to pick out a free cloth bag.
Finally got to meet the man whose house I covet. He was hoeing in his shrubbery. Very nice and outlined the improvements he's made to the house when I told him HOW MUCH I admire it. When he first bought it 20 years ago his sister said, Why would you buy THAT? Apparently it was very plain and pitiful looking. But he added windows, porch, bumped out a bedroom to add a bath, etc. Some people are just the cleverest. Didn't get invited inside. THIS TIME.
In there somewhere I commented to our friend, These yard sale hosts are going to be tired by 1:00 PM. NO!, they'll be INVIGORATED, she countered. See, my friend is the full glass type, not half full, but spilling over FULL. She's a marvelous influence on me. Did I ever tell you she's 90 years old? She makes 90 the new 30, NO KIDDING. That makes her significantly younger than I.
Back to friend's house to listen to beautiful Mozart violin music and sip white grape juice. And watch boaters on the bayou, which really seems like a lake off Tampa Bay. In fact, this whole area reminds me of Michigan and Paw Paw Lake. Let's not forget to pet and brush Bylow, the best Sable kitty. Oh yeah, and Mike bought two more CD's, jazz, for $.50 each.
When all was said and done, which was plenty, Mike and I went to eat pancakes at this little tiny place on Central Avenue. Delicious. On sleepy way home we stopped at The Garage Sale Store. It's exactly what it sounds like and the prices are dirty dirt cheap. Found a Sidekick Corning Ware little white appetizer dish or something. PERFECT for Jazzi's dog food because it has a little lip along the edge. You can always use an extra dog dish, I think. $.49.
So, came home to type up Sophia Loren's Spaghetti recipe to go in Mike's Singing for Your Health weekly newsletter. Because somehow at his new class we wound around to spaghetti and the ladies asked for the recipe. I am very grouchy by now and have to go sleep all afternoon.
Okay, Evaluation of Yard Sale: Ummm. I didn't show a whole lot of restraint. Should have had a budget and only carried so many quarters with me. I wish I hadn't bought one single thing. Except Last Time I Saw Paris. But it was still lots of fun. So, didn't catch the yard sale fever, even after 15 year hiatus. Best part of the sale was the people. Heard about a good roofer in the process, too, which, if that works out, would be more than worth the $17.10 we spent. Of course, minus the movie from that, I wanted that. Oh, I did want the headband, minus $.50 more. Mike spent the 2 bucks on CD's, which is really a business expense. And the green silk jacket is pretty cool. So that brings us down to finding a roofer for $8.60. I had seen this roof going on, but the next door neighbor to the roof house said she'd used him, too, and he is an excellent craftsman, and that is great because without a doubt our wood is rotten underneath the shingles. Four layers of shingles on the old part of our house. People, that is not even legal. Okay, so I really do like the little bowls, that brings us to $6.10. Not bad. I didn't count the omelet pan in any of this because it was a GIFT.
So, here is the upside to this experience, filling up my glass here. I am GLAD I wish I hadn't bought anything. It shows something. It shows I'm getting some sense because I really don't WANT anything more. I would rather NOT have anything more . . . well, you know what I mean. I shall simplify, too! It shows all that or else it shows I'm getting old, rotten and deflated.
A Trip to the Thrift in the Offing,
KEM
Showing posts with label Yardsale. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Yardsale. Show all posts
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
A Dissection of Yardsailing
Can it possibly be time to blog again?? My, oh, my.
Once upon a very long time ago, I took up the occupation of yardsailing (I tried for "saling" or "saleing" or even "sale-ing", but nothing clicked). I took up this worthy occupation because DTD was a little toddler and she needed things. Or rather her mommy was having too much fun fantasizing Darling Toddler Daughter needed all these precious darling things, like Fisher-Price Little People and 1950's books that showcased the Dick and Jane style artwork that made women want to be a mommy in the first place. I like sweet and innocent, gentle and inviting. None of the harsh, edgy, sterile stuff you might see today. Although not all is a total loss in these, our modern times. The children's book Lily's Purple Plastic Purse is a prime example that the world has yet a remnant of charm. Emphasis on remnant.
Well, so I set the alarm clock and hit the road. If the early bird ever gets the worm, then he'd better show up in yards at 7:00 AM for sales advertised to begin at 8:00. It's grievous, really, but it is the modus operandi amongst professional yardsalees. It's sorta like trying to drive the speed limit on the Interstate. You keep up with the going speed, approximately 25 MPH over the speed limit, or you get honked off the asphalt, mowed down or, most hateful of all, rude gestures meant to incinerate upon visual contact. It doesn't work so well to abide by the law on the road, or so it seems. With yardsales, you show up politely on time and you may as well not show up at all because all the good stuff is LONG gone. Really, I need to brush up on ethics. We try to follow the rules, but the mass of careless humanity tends to sweep us up into the tailwind of "You are SO left in the dust." So despite our staunchest efforts to stay the civilized course, we find ourselves going 90 and helping frantic strangers set their junk on the lawn.
I had fun on my treasure hunts for the six or so weeks they lasted. I found cute toddler clothes and books and . . . Fisher-Price Little People, zillions of them. In fact, in Burlington, NC, there seems to have been an epidemic of Little People and accessories, like all the village shops, the fire house, the church and school, the trucks and cars and wagons, you name it. Oh, for pity's sake, DTD'S bedroom floor was virtually overtaken by this Fisher-Price City, building after building lined up orderly along the four walls, population booming with cute smiling characters. It was breezily out of control by Yard Sale Three. But that didn't stop me from going out Saturday Morning Number Four to scoop up more F-PLP jazz. It was addictive -- until I understood that it was also hopeless, the idea of owning one of every sort of Little Person ever to hit the free market. And did I really want to become an avid F-PLP collector anyway, especially when DTD never touched the stuff? She had absolutely zero use for it. Good golly, all these loads of stuff must have intimidated her. Maybe she imagined the Little People coming to life at night and crawling up on her bed and "getting" her, like an army of roaches. Yikes, I'm scaring myself. DTD was actually the poor Little Person, to have tolerated all this hooey. Really, common sense limits have to kick in at some point. So I gave up the hunt. But obviously I was not the only FP-infatuated person, all of America seemed to be, judging by the concentration of Little People inventory at these Burlington yard sales.
Sailing about I would run into my good friend, as she made frugality an art. As our daughters were the same age, I didn't want to get competitive about our finds, though. And rising early was NOT going to last, which of course it didn't, Lil'P notwithstanding. So not only did I quit the LP quest, but I ceased and desisted from yard sailing altogether.
BUT. But, but, BUT before thrift (and nonsense) and I parted ways, on two separate and distinct Saturday mornings, at two separate and distinct yard sales, I found REAL TREASURES. And here, FINALLY, is the punchline to the stale old promise I made weeks ago, when I said there really WAS a point to telling you about the books Sally Goes Shopping Alone and The Little Rabbit that would not Eat. Just imagine, if you will, my eyes bugging out of my head, neck veins popping, heart racing and hyperventilation when, upon rummaging through someone's box of old musty books I beheld none other than SALLY GOES SHOPPING ALONE. Issued 1940 and in almost mint condition. WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This can't be happening!, I gleed and gloated. The book's owner was probably only too glad to collect my quarter and watch me rapturously float over her yard, leaving a trail of mouth foam, Sally book clutched to my breast. Whew, that nutcase is off the property, thought she. I do tend to go overboard in my enthusiasm. But, don't you just KNOW how I felt?? Here was one of my favorite childhood books, if not THE favorite, reserved just for me. UNREAL! Couldn't wait to read it to DTD. But she has her own mind. She didn't spring for the F-PLP. She never liked the book Good Night, Moon (which made me think maybe the hospital mixed up the babies). And, as I recall, she didn't form an instant bond with Sally and Sally's vivid account of her grown-up shopping spree. But then, down the road, DTD went through periods of not liking some All-American things such as French fries and hot dogs. So, I figured I got a Swiss-born baby or something. Just kidding, she's mine, all mine.
Well then, as if Sally Alone was not enough, I next stumbled upon The Little Rabbit that would not Eat. This was a new and revised edition, 1942, original edition copyrighted 1925. The pages of this copy were loosened from the front cover and the back was missing. But so what, the pages were still sewn together, more or less. And it was a little moldy, too. I've concluded DUST = MUST. You know how we leave things laying around, like books. Then dust lays all over the book and along the edges and then we open the book and the dust falls in. We don't care or even know because who sees this kind of dust, really? So then the book is closed and the dust is pressed inside, sealed tight. Maybe then the book gets shelved, undisturbed for years. Next time you pull it down and open it, PRESTO!, you now have MUST!, as in mold and mildew. It's premium-aged DUST! Honestly, I am enjoying this tonight.
So, I was thrilled to find a second treasure. I thought that was very sweet of God. I believe I checked my emotions with the Rabbit book, turning up old childhood favorites was getting to be old hat by now, ha! Save embarrassing jigs and facial contortions for the latter years, when Darling Toddler Daughter winks into Darling Teenage Daughter. Oh, wait a second, here's something I just noticed. Inside the cover of Sally is written, To Susie from Alice, 12/25/41. And also, To Bryan from Grandma Lou, 10/10/87. The book became mine in 1993, I'm at least the third owner. The Rabbit book is inscribed, in what appears to be very old ink, THIS BOOK BELONGS TO Susan from Christine. Very intersting, two Sues and all. I LOVE dreaming what little hands may have held these books, what little hearts loved them as I did.
Well, I'll wrap it up by expanding your knowledge of NIP, the naughty bunny who wouldn't eat. When his parents went on summer holiday, he and his siblings, FLIP and SKIP, visited their Grandma. When NIP turned up his nose at vigor-giving carrots, his Grandma indulged him, because he was the youngest. She let him have cocoa in acorn cups and dessert in place of nutrititious meals, which were an abomination to little NIP. NIP became littler and sick and weak. He couldn't even tag the squirrels or rabbits and had to be IT over and over again. His appetite was reduced so that even the thought of Hickory Nut Cake and Walnut Ice Cream made him nauseous. Grandma took pale little limp little NIP to Doc Owl who said, Young fellow, if you don't change your ways, you may wind up in BUNNY HEAVEN! Well, NIP did change his ways since Grandma reckoned forcing him to down his vegetables was preferable to tearfully informing his parents, He's gone on to Bunny Heaven. If NIP had gone to Bunny Heaven I rather think Grandma would have joined him shortly thereafter and the whole scene would have been very bad. But the artist just SO perfectly captured little NIP'S health decline, a sadder more wan little face you never did see. In one picture there is a platter bowl of carrot, lettuce and pea pods on the ground. NIP has his back to it but his head is turned ever so slightly toward the dish and he's eyeballing it with a stink eye, as CDW would say. The only green thing to ever touch NIP was his jacket. Well, that all changed in the end, thank the dear Lord. Happy endings are THE ONLY WAY to go, wouldn't you say?
Guess what? I'm going to a yard sale on Saturday. Remember St. Petersburg's Best Kept Secret? Yeah, that neighborhood's having a yard sale. I told you. Like I'm going to miss that. Don't you just know I'm going to find the book where they hang slices of apple pie for Christmas tree ornaments?? Sale starts at 8:00. Be there at 7:00 or be square.
NIPpy SAILING SALLY KEM
Once upon a very long time ago, I took up the occupation of yardsailing (I tried for "saling" or "saleing" or even "sale-ing", but nothing clicked). I took up this worthy occupation because DTD was a little toddler and she needed things. Or rather her mommy was having too much fun fantasizing Darling Toddler Daughter needed all these precious darling things, like Fisher-Price Little People and 1950's books that showcased the Dick and Jane style artwork that made women want to be a mommy in the first place. I like sweet and innocent, gentle and inviting. None of the harsh, edgy, sterile stuff you might see today. Although not all is a total loss in these, our modern times. The children's book Lily's Purple Plastic Purse is a prime example that the world has yet a remnant of charm. Emphasis on remnant.
Well, so I set the alarm clock and hit the road. If the early bird ever gets the worm, then he'd better show up in yards at 7:00 AM for sales advertised to begin at 8:00. It's grievous, really, but it is the modus operandi amongst professional yardsalees. It's sorta like trying to drive the speed limit on the Interstate. You keep up with the going speed, approximately 25 MPH over the speed limit, or you get honked off the asphalt, mowed down or, most hateful of all, rude gestures meant to incinerate upon visual contact. It doesn't work so well to abide by the law on the road, or so it seems. With yardsales, you show up politely on time and you may as well not show up at all because all the good stuff is LONG gone. Really, I need to brush up on ethics. We try to follow the rules, but the mass of careless humanity tends to sweep us up into the tailwind of "You are SO left in the dust." So despite our staunchest efforts to stay the civilized course, we find ourselves going 90 and helping frantic strangers set their junk on the lawn.
I had fun on my treasure hunts for the six or so weeks they lasted. I found cute toddler clothes and books and . . . Fisher-Price Little People, zillions of them. In fact, in Burlington, NC, there seems to have been an epidemic of Little People and accessories, like all the village shops, the fire house, the church and school, the trucks and cars and wagons, you name it. Oh, for pity's sake, DTD'S bedroom floor was virtually overtaken by this Fisher-Price City, building after building lined up orderly along the four walls, population booming with cute smiling characters. It was breezily out of control by Yard Sale Three. But that didn't stop me from going out Saturday Morning Number Four to scoop up more F-PLP jazz. It was addictive -- until I understood that it was also hopeless, the idea of owning one of every sort of Little Person ever to hit the free market. And did I really want to become an avid F-PLP collector anyway, especially when DTD never touched the stuff? She had absolutely zero use for it. Good golly, all these loads of stuff must have intimidated her. Maybe she imagined the Little People coming to life at night and crawling up on her bed and "getting" her, like an army of roaches. Yikes, I'm scaring myself. DTD was actually the poor Little Person, to have tolerated all this hooey. Really, common sense limits have to kick in at some point. So I gave up the hunt. But obviously I was not the only FP-infatuated person, all of America seemed to be, judging by the concentration of Little People inventory at these Burlington yard sales.
Sailing about I would run into my good friend, as she made frugality an art. As our daughters were the same age, I didn't want to get competitive about our finds, though. And rising early was NOT going to last, which of course it didn't, Lil'P notwithstanding. So not only did I quit the LP quest, but I ceased and desisted from yard sailing altogether.
BUT. But, but, BUT before thrift (and nonsense) and I parted ways, on two separate and distinct Saturday mornings, at two separate and distinct yard sales, I found REAL TREASURES. And here, FINALLY, is the punchline to the stale old promise I made weeks ago, when I said there really WAS a point to telling you about the books Sally Goes Shopping Alone and The Little Rabbit that would not Eat. Just imagine, if you will, my eyes bugging out of my head, neck veins popping, heart racing and hyperventilation when, upon rummaging through someone's box of old musty books I beheld none other than SALLY GOES SHOPPING ALONE. Issued 1940 and in almost mint condition. WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This can't be happening!, I gleed and gloated. The book's owner was probably only too glad to collect my quarter and watch me rapturously float over her yard, leaving a trail of mouth foam, Sally book clutched to my breast. Whew, that nutcase is off the property, thought she. I do tend to go overboard in my enthusiasm. But, don't you just KNOW how I felt?? Here was one of my favorite childhood books, if not THE favorite, reserved just for me. UNREAL! Couldn't wait to read it to DTD. But she has her own mind. She didn't spring for the F-PLP. She never liked the book Good Night, Moon (which made me think maybe the hospital mixed up the babies). And, as I recall, she didn't form an instant bond with Sally and Sally's vivid account of her grown-up shopping spree. But then, down the road, DTD went through periods of not liking some All-American things such as French fries and hot dogs. So, I figured I got a Swiss-born baby or something. Just kidding, she's mine, all mine.
Well then, as if Sally Alone was not enough, I next stumbled upon The Little Rabbit that would not Eat. This was a new and revised edition, 1942, original edition copyrighted 1925. The pages of this copy were loosened from the front cover and the back was missing. But so what, the pages were still sewn together, more or less. And it was a little moldy, too. I've concluded DUST = MUST. You know how we leave things laying around, like books. Then dust lays all over the book and along the edges and then we open the book and the dust falls in. We don't care or even know because who sees this kind of dust, really? So then the book is closed and the dust is pressed inside, sealed tight. Maybe then the book gets shelved, undisturbed for years. Next time you pull it down and open it, PRESTO!, you now have MUST!, as in mold and mildew. It's premium-aged DUST! Honestly, I am enjoying this tonight.
So, I was thrilled to find a second treasure. I thought that was very sweet of God. I believe I checked my emotions with the Rabbit book, turning up old childhood favorites was getting to be old hat by now, ha! Save embarrassing jigs and facial contortions for the latter years, when Darling Toddler Daughter winks into Darling Teenage Daughter. Oh, wait a second, here's something I just noticed. Inside the cover of Sally is written, To Susie from Alice, 12/25/41. And also, To Bryan from Grandma Lou, 10/10/87. The book became mine in 1993, I'm at least the third owner. The Rabbit book is inscribed, in what appears to be very old ink, THIS BOOK BELONGS TO Susan from Christine. Very intersting, two Sues and all. I LOVE dreaming what little hands may have held these books, what little hearts loved them as I did.
Well, I'll wrap it up by expanding your knowledge of NIP, the naughty bunny who wouldn't eat. When his parents went on summer holiday, he and his siblings, FLIP and SKIP, visited their Grandma. When NIP turned up his nose at vigor-giving carrots, his Grandma indulged him, because he was the youngest. She let him have cocoa in acorn cups and dessert in place of nutrititious meals, which were an abomination to little NIP. NIP became littler and sick and weak. He couldn't even tag the squirrels or rabbits and had to be IT over and over again. His appetite was reduced so that even the thought of Hickory Nut Cake and Walnut Ice Cream made him nauseous. Grandma took pale little limp little NIP to Doc Owl who said, Young fellow, if you don't change your ways, you may wind up in BUNNY HEAVEN! Well, NIP did change his ways since Grandma reckoned forcing him to down his vegetables was preferable to tearfully informing his parents, He's gone on to Bunny Heaven. If NIP had gone to Bunny Heaven I rather think Grandma would have joined him shortly thereafter and the whole scene would have been very bad. But the artist just SO perfectly captured little NIP'S health decline, a sadder more wan little face you never did see. In one picture there is a platter bowl of carrot, lettuce and pea pods on the ground. NIP has his back to it but his head is turned ever so slightly toward the dish and he's eyeballing it with a stink eye, as CDW would say. The only green thing to ever touch NIP was his jacket. Well, that all changed in the end, thank the dear Lord. Happy endings are THE ONLY WAY to go, wouldn't you say?
Guess what? I'm going to a yard sale on Saturday. Remember St. Petersburg's Best Kept Secret? Yeah, that neighborhood's having a yard sale. I told you. Like I'm going to miss that. Don't you just know I'm going to find the book where they hang slices of apple pie for Christmas tree ornaments?? Sale starts at 8:00. Be there at 7:00 or be square.
NIPpy SAILING SALLY KEM
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
