After a near 70° day this past weekend that had all the hopeful gardeners (including us) scurrying out to their yards to clean up last year’s debris, Mother Nature has again let us know that it is NOT Spring. With temps down to -10° F, we had our budding flower dreams slapped back with vigor. It’s not only that we love to garden, but drat, we really need a garage sale or two, and no sane (maybe not even an INSANE) person will schlep their junk to the driveway in that sort of weather. Oh well, yet again, we console ourselves with thrift stores, but never fear, they delivered as usual, with quite the smattering of “artwork”.
This took us two tries to get a decent photo of it. I am not sure why we tried so hard, except that after Deb’s camera refused to even try for it, we felt challenged enough to give it another go:
It was mainly the back that gave us fits, and here it is:
This is mostly to show that it really is a big hunk of marble. Probably the finest Carrara Marble, that was wasted by some hack of an artist carving a fist with what looks like an extra thumb. At least it was heavy. It would make an awesome murder mystery weapon. Just push this sucker off the second-story windowsill where it was resting and knock out the unsuspecting extra character. For all you budding novelists: You’re welcome.
These next two are sort of a twofer. First up, I am the Walrus:
It’s kind of hard to tell in the pic, but this thing was HUGE. A solid couple of feet tall, and we really hate to say it, but we kinda liked it. I am not really sure what sort of room this fits in. Definitely not the bar, as with a couple of drinks in you, those eyes might give you the heebie jeebies, and maybe not the bedroom for the same reason. If you put it in the kitchen it might look like he is begging for food, and in the bath, well, let’s just let that peeping walrus lie. So that leaves a living room, den, etc. Not sure, but we still like it. Someone else must have liked it too, as it was gone the next week.
And sitting right next to it:
Again, giant. In more ways than one, too. It was a print on canvas designed to look like it might have been a priceless masterpiece, but we were totally turned off by it. The more I looked at it, the more I decided it had to not be some random artwork for the print market, and with a little digging I found out it is called “The Colossus”, and may or may not be by Goya. That really explains a lot; I am not fond of Goya, and I can’t imagine this in any room in any house. I don’t care if he, or one of his students did it; they can keep it.
While we are talking authenticity:
This pitcher claimed to have authentic Native American symbols on it. They even explained them all on the back of the card:
Seriously, folks, if you had any taste at all, you would have stolen the tag off the pitcher, and taken that home instead of the whole shebang. It’s just one big UCK. Buy a postcard!
These had us scratching our heads:
They were slipper-shaped, but too tiny to ever fit on a foot, and who could wear metal slippers anyway? So if they are not useful, our next job is to see if they are decorative. Well … nope, just don’t see it. Sort of blows the mind that they took the time to make a pair of them. If they had spent all that time and metal on some filigree jewelry, we would be in heaven instead of in Imelda’s closet.
Here is another thing on our like list:
How cute is this little doll bed? Your teddy or your favorite doll would be right at home here. I love sturdy toys like this that could take years of play and come back for more. Beats all the plastic junk to bits. Even as we were looking, a lady swooped in to look at this; we hope she had lots of grandkids.
We wish Elvis would leave the building:
Seriously, I know by the time Elvis reached the white jumpsuit stage, things were pretty tough with him, but I don’t think he ever turned into a frog. If you kiss it, does it play Love Me Tender, or Let me Be your Froggy Toad (Teddy Bear)? Maybe, I’m all Croaked Up? Sincere apologies to the King. No one should be remembered like this.
We pan shell “art” on a regular basis. We also have to admit to an iota, well, maybe a little more, of liking for this:
She was kinda cute in a totally ridiculous sort of way. As a kid, I probably would have thought this was so grown up, and it would have been a treasured souvenir. Good thing I didn’t travel to Mississippi at that susceptible age. It’s goofy and kitchy, and we forgive whomever brought it home.
This had us both chortling:
We both firmly subscribe to this. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t have folks following us around thrift stores laughing at how much fun we are having. We don’t have much in the way of filters, but we do try and lower the decibel level when we say something truly outrageous. Doesn’t always work, but we try. By the time we reach our 70s we will just blithely wander around saying whatever we feel like and laughing hysterically. Stay tuned for the future!
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