Not So Jolly St. Nick

As I write this, we have just returned from a jaunt to the next state up (WY) simply to go to an estate sale.  Not only did we have to cross state lines, but we did it in the snow.  What can I say, it was a great sale.  Did we take pictures you ask?  No, nary a one; that is how good the sale was!  We had our hands full and were trundling back and forth to our pile of “treasures” setting our stuff in the hold area and toting up the old credit card bill.  Tell you what, next month, after the Christmas shenanigans, we will share some pix of our finds, but for now on to the holiday season with not so Jolly Old Santas.

First up this batch:

We would have bet money they were brand new, as there were so many of them.  They all looked like someone had drug them out of bed too early after a night of bingeing on super rum spiked eggnog.  But, when we turned one over, it had this label:

Usually the Japanese Christmas stuff is super cute, but even at the low bargain price of $1.99 each, we left each and every one of them to climb into their chimneys of shame.  That’ll teach them to imbibe right before their ONE NIGHT of work for the entire year!

On the other hand, maybe Santa is more into this sort of vice:

In this day and age, I can see why this sign made it to the thrift store, as it sort of makes you wince, after you giggle a bit.  Let’s just hope all the bad girls Santa visits are in the same sort of vein of Mommy Kissing Santa Claus, and every good Kringle gets a little thrill from the right lady.

While we are being inappropriate:

OK, we got a really good laugh at this one.  Enough that  it made the lady on the other side of the rack venture around to see what we were chuckling at.  She laughed too.  I don’t know where you wear this shirt, as just about anywhere you go, you could offend someone.  The Elf Guild was really pissed about it.

Maybe this is more along the line of a proper vice:

It’s oddly specific about being organic, and if you are going to get Blitzened do you really care?  Let’s just pass out the good stuff, all get souzzled and really enjoy the holiday for once.  To be honest, we kind of liked this, but who needs a holiday pillow?  (Confession, I have several, but not as many Christmas, as Halloween, and both are pretty stupid to store for 11 months of the year!)  [Deb here:  B.H. want’s to know what Blitzen is winking at?  The word wink is right there by his left eye.  Also, are we to assume that Blitzen ferments his feed and then drinks it?  So many questions.]

We tried to like these:

We failed.  More resin crap.  Sigh.  I would rather see one lovely carved figure, or maybe one made of porcelain than 100 of these poorly painted oil-laden monstrosities.  Let’s just say no to this stuff and put us all our of misery once and for all, and NO, they are not collectible.  I don’t care what the ad said, no one is ever going to want these and pay anything for them.  See above photo for case in point.  Also, if you are wondering, those Beanie Babies aren’t worth anything, either.

We also tried to like this:

We did much better here.  We also tried to figure out which of our respective male companions could be conned into wearing it.  We came to the conclusion that neither of us wanted to be divorced, and I was not ready for my son to run away from home, so we sadly left it for some other much more cajolable male to wear.

This was cute:

But it seemed to us that a few more hours of burning the wick at one end, might make you burn up the whole candle from the outside in.  Those fluffy cotton beards look like a bonfire in the making.  I guess as long as you had some marshmallows and chocolate around, it would not be a total loss.  You notice that whoever owned it before chickened out long before it could get to that point.  No sense of adventure, I guess.

We were subjected to this for several weeks in a row at the local thrift:

We weren’t sure if those oddly snouted reindeer were a totally different breed, or if some aardvarks weren’t crossing the picket line after Santa’s transportation went on strike asking for more of “Blitzen’s Best”.  We also weren’t sure why each animal was dressed as a Vogue “don’t”.  Could it be part of a disguise, or just a clever ruse to get ride of at least four ugly sweaters?  You could always fill it up with peppermint kisses and make it better, but some lout would come along, eat all the goodies, and you would be facing those long nosed mugs again.  We just hope someone came by and broke it, as it did disappear.  If so, they should get the kisses, the peppermint ones, none of Santa’s bad girls live here.

This was a really odd juxtaposition of things:

I’ve seen quite a few of these little Mexican-looking blankets on liquor bottles etc.  I have even been known to snag them for my dolls as they are a pretty good size, but why is Santa on it?  Were they just in the warehouse looking for something to print on and these popped up?  Now that you have a tiny rug printed with Santa in a chair what do you do?  Send it as a Christmas card?  Wrap up a tiny (and I mean REALLY tiny) baby reindeer?  Use it as a holiday drink coaster?  Maybe that’s best, and it might say something about me that I keep coming back to liquor.  Maybe there is a margarita with my name on it somewhere and I had better go find it.

Stay tuned in the next couple of weeks, we have more Christmas and it just wouldn’t be the holiday season without a bad Christmas crafts post, so one of those is in the wings, too.

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Hanky Giveaway Winners

We would like to thank everyone who participated in our giveaway AND say thanks to everyone that visited the blog for the first time and gave us a read.

Oldnewgreenredo and Chrysalis: please send your addresses to and we’ll get your hankies in the mail.


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The Early Birds Catch the Worm?

Unless you’re a robin, I’m not sure why on earth you would want a worm!  Yes, you’re right, we’re a day early, but hopefully not a laugh short.  Things just worked out this way so we’re rolling with it.  We hope that all of our US readers are having an excellent, no-drama Thanksgiving with those they love.  Actually, we hope that all of our readers are having a lovely Thursday whether they’re in a self-induced tryptophan stupor, or not.

We have another giveaway going for this post.  Leave a comment on the blog only and you could win one of these fabulous hankies:

We’ll draw names on Sunday afternoon around 4pm MST, and will announce the winners in a short post afterwards.  Check back and see if you got lucky!

We have some amazingly awful things to show you this week before we start up the annual Christmas horror show.  We should have at least three weeks worth of Christmas-related twaddle that we have photographed during the year.  Buckle up!

Besides the word “Noel” on Miss Bluecoat’s book, what about this pair says Christmas?


Was there anything decorative going on in the 1970s that wasn’t misguided?  That’s a trick question because of course the answer is, “NO!!”  Not only do these marginal Christmas decorations not sport Christmas colors, which is a low bar, they aren’t very attractive or even fun.  I’m thinking the girls have been into the spiked eggnog before heading out to entertain the neighbors with their Noel carols.  The expression on their faces could be in the dictionary for pie-eyed.  I guess we see only the two of them because the rest of the group are lying in a snowbank somewhere too snockered to walk or sing.

We’ve got a couple more ’70s goodies to share:

Does it get much worse than this?  That day-old avocado color probably doesn’t show a lick of dirt, but that’s all you can say for it.  Trust that decade to mess up the color green!  Anyone lounging in this chair is making the world a better place by covering it up.  Let’s hear it for those ’70s neon crochet throws that Grandma used to put on her furniture.  Much better looking than this.  I hope someone buys this chair, frees it of that fabric, which then can be burned.  The chair could be comfortable AND attractive with some new upholstery.

I love boxes, especially those old cedar ones that smell good.  This jewelry box attracted me right off the bat:

It’s unusual with the box at the top with drawers underneath and then the stand.  We looked at it and I think that it was made this way and isn’t a union of pieces.  It was kind of cool until we opened ’er up:

What’s happening?  Going from a “hey, this is kinda cool” to “awww, make it stop” is disorienting!  Why, why would anyone put avocado shag in a jewelry box?  All of my sparklies would abandon ship!  To top it off, it’s a music box, too.  That loose fabric area in the top hides the mechanism.  I was at the thrift shop recently and it’s still there—surprise!

I’m just being a big ol’ meanie today:

If any of you have an idea what’s going on with these two, we would love to hear it.  We’re in the 1980s, now, which isn’t the worst decorative decade because of the ’70s, but it’s a close call.  Those shades of pink and blue were everywhere, accompanying the cute country fad.  Back to the cows—I think they were candlesticks.  It boggles the mind that someone thought they were acceptable enough to put out where visitors could see them!  I’m not sure what that is on top of their heads, or why those heart-shaped pockets are right over their naughty bits?  Even though they have cow heads, those surely are women’s bodies, aren’t they?  They belong in the back of a deep cupboard, never to be seen, until someone sensible drops the milkmaids off at a thrift store.

We were particularly amused by the fish picture in the center top shelf:

This could be another ’80s decorative, we use that term loosely, item.  It has pink and blue, and the picture looks to be copying native art forms.  What we found funny was the fish’s expression of surprise.  I don’t know if it’s shocked to be in a picture this bad, surprised that it has an equilateral triangle tattoo, or just stunned to exist at all.  But that pop-eyed mouth-open look is all too familiar; we must look at each other with this expression at least once every Friday!

What the what!?

As Kathy says, “This has one of everything except taste.”  There is a lot to unpack here.  It starts out looking like a winter flower arrangement with the evergreens, the white snow-like touches, and the glittery icicles (or frozen snot, take your pick).  But, the cherub holder at the bottom isn’t a seasonal match; maybe they’re shooting for Valentine’s Day?  The flowers themselves are a mixture of spring and summer, so that’s weird, too.  Maybe it was for a winter wedding and all bets are off for that scenario.  Brides want what brides want; don’t try to make sense of it!

We like the lamp:

So … let’s talk about the shade.  We frequently complain about how people torture shells by using them in hideous ways.  This augmented shade might move right to the top of the list for shell-related crimes.  You know, unadorned that’s a perfectly okay shade.  It might be just a little too big for the lamp, but that’s being fricking nitpicky!  Those shells take it from okay to oh no!  The best solution here is to take that mess off the charming lamp, and slap it on the ugly thing behind and to the right.  If you see that combo in someone’s cart, you might want to steer them to the chair, jewelry box, or really anything in this post.  I think concentrating the bad stuff in one toxic zone is the safest thing for the rest of us!

Old album covers are some of the most diverting things out there:

Johnny’s gang looks pretty sketchy if you ask me!  Turns out that Johnny had kind of an interesting life, and quite a bit of success first with the Harmonica Rascals (I’m NOT making this up) and later with his Harmonica Gang.  Besides playing the harmonica, he also did pantomime; I just can’t imagine those two together.  Looking at this picture, why is Johnny wearing cowboy duds?  Three of the guys look sailorish, and one looks like he’s in the circus.  Looking at videos, that seems to be part of the act.  If you’re curious, here’s a link to one of The Gang’s performances on YouTube.

Don’t forget the hanky giveaway!  Enter by leaving a comment here on the blog.

Hope you all corral a bunch of great buys this weekend.  We tend to not participate in Black Friday, at least not together, but we believe in supporting our local economy and shopping!

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Turkey Not So Hot Line

Well, we didn’t even have to work too hard to come with two posts worth of things to NOT be thankful for, but before we get to that, let’s pass on a few things we are thankful for.  First and foremost, we are supremely thankful for our loyal readers.  The fact that you come back to be tortured, week after week, makes our day!  Secondly we always say a great big thanks for friendship.  It’s a good thing Deb and I found each other, as who else would put up with us, other than our respective spouses!  And one last thanks to all the manufacturers, distributors, thrift stores and generally crazy folks who keep us continually supplied with nutty stuff to write about week after week!

Now on to the turkeys.

Let’s start with this:

OK, they could be chickens, but either way, why would you want to mold one?  We finally decided they didn’t really belong as a pairs.  You would lay each one down flat and fill it because when you put them together there was no way to fill them.  So you only get half a turkey, and we still don’t know why the exist.  We are going to throw this one out to our readers.  Let us know if you understand, as we sure didn’t, and don’t make it anything really fun, or we will kick ourselves for not buying them.

This crazy bird was obviously painted by someone who was color-blind:

Wow, is that bright!  We would have just left it at that, but we made the mistake of turning it around:

Why is there a living room in his butt?  We are so confused.  On top of the difficulty of painting inside the animal, why would you do it?  Somehow making a cozy home for turkey parasites seems a bit short-sighted, given the probability of salmonella, anyway.  Please cook that turkey all the way to 165, and prevent a parlor in your bird!

Once the correct temperature is reached, you will need a platter, please just not this one:

Nasty plastic ’70s thing, Begone!  If you are desperate, and you just have to bring it to the table to have that family turkey picture moment, I suppose, but maybe you could try this one instead:

At least this one is a nice vintage one, in a bit better color.  I still wouldn’t put my bird on anything less than my humongous turkey platter that we wrote about a few years ago.  See here.  I think I am turkey platter snob!

While you are cooking, you could do worse than to don this festive apron:

We liked it, not too sure about that odd yellow ruffle at the bottom, but good ole Snoopy makes up for quite a bit.  It is a rather odd apron pattern, too, or maybe they didn’t use a pattern.  Maybe it was the leftovers from making their Thanksgiving shirt, and they took the extra fabric, trimmed it with a dish scrubber, and called it good.

At least the Snoopy print is better than this:

For heaven’s sake, does either couple look like they are heading somewhere for a good time?  No, both of ’em look like their respective mothers-in-law are going to be there, and she is on a tear, because they have not provided the proper amount of grandchildren, and when are you going to get a bigger, house, and when is your wife going to learn to cook that bushel full of apples she showed up with?  And while we are at it, how come you haven’t asked for a raise, and made something of yourself instead of sitting around here on this big old Plymouth Rock?

At least these two look a teeny bit happier:

Not a whole lot mind you, and she might have been sampling the wine for the meal a bit early, as she is listing to one side.  Come to think of it, that might make up for the mother-in-law.  (Really no offence here, as I adore my mother-in-law, but it was just too easy!)

Hey at least the previous photo makes sense, can you believe this pilgrim and her duck?

Give that bird a snood all you want; it still looks like some sort of cross between a duck and an Easter chick.  Miss Pilgrim looks like she is still brave enough to cook it, so said avian had better watch out.  There is a passel of hungry Pilgrims and Indians who need food, and by God, it is going to get on that table or else.  An aside here, the Summer Intern was heading home from campus the other day and saw a wild turkey just strolling around the intersection near school.  We do occasionally get them in town, but that is a bird with a death wish this close to Thanksgiving.  Wonder if he was roadkill … I mean dinner before the day was up.

I have a really weird fascination for this kind of stuff:

All those crazy little Thanksgiving and Christmas picks, and mini decorations in one box.  I have no idea how I resisted, but I am willing to bet it is because it was priced at more than a buck, and I am notoriously cheap.  Those mini cornucopias are oddly suggestive, and I have no idea how that green bracelet got there, still, it is fun to see holidays from the past in a microcosm.

Ever wonder how you get more turkey?

Must be from turkey love.  They were proud of their photo of canoodling turkeys, enough that they signed it, so we felt we must give them their due and post it.  It did make us laugh, as well as the lady standing next to us, so they must have done OK.  Probably didn’t have that in mind when they snapped it, but take your success where you can get it!  We always do.

Don’t forget the drawing for the cranberry server tonight!  Leave a comment on the blog, Facebook, or the doll boards where the links are posted.  If you entered, please check your email; I need your address to get the server mailed ASAP.

Finally, a wonderful reader sent us this vintage postcard:

Thanks Stephanie!  I can see why you liked the ear-of-corn car from last week’s post, although this one is way better.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of our readers in the U.S.  Hope you get to spend time with those who mean the most to you.

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Gobbling Up Bad Thanksgiving Finds

Well, our Thanksgiving is a little later this year so I think with a little coaxing we can get TWO posts for your reading pleasure!  Plus, we have a giveaway which I’m going to start with since it makes us so happy!

Way back in 2013, I found an ad for a cranberry server in an old Better Homes and Gardens which started our quest for cranberry servers.  I copied it so you won’t have to go looking for it:

I bought a whole pile of Better Homes and Gardens magazines from the 1940s at a garage sale.  They have tons of really interesting ads:

Canned Cranberry Server circa 1949Wow, I never knew that you shouldn’t serve cranberry slices with a regular spoon.  I don’t think I have ever seen one of these servers, but if we meet up at an estate sale, at least I’ll know what it is!  By the way, did you see the article to the left of the cranberry server?  It explains some of my cooking woes; my pans are agin me!

Readers were amazed with us; lots of them didn’t know what that flat round thing was for.  We had requests from folks to find a server for them and we did find an extra one which we gave away.  Well, we have another one and hopefully we want someone to get it before U.S. Thanksgiving:


It’s even the same server as in the ad—what are the odds?  You know the drill: leave a comment here, on Facebook, or on whatever board you read this blog on, and we’ll have a drawing next Friday (11/22/19) around 7pm MT, and I’ll get the server in the mail on Saturday.  Hopefully, the lucky winner will have it in time to use it Thursday!  Kathy even polished it up and it’s been living in a Ziploc bag, so no tarnish to clean.  If you don’t live in the U.S., but would like the server for whatever reason (we know jellied cranberries aren’t a thing anywhere but here, and only on Thanksgiving here) then feel free to enter.

I’m not so excited about the rest of the things I have to show you, and you shouldn’t be, either.

This is a terrible picture, but those dang plastic bags really tax my pathetic skills:

If we’re to believe this cutout, we’re seeing the equivalent of a Pilgrim Cinderella or Snow White.  The birds are helping him gather fruit for the first Thanksgiving feast.  I hope he is singing a song with them, too!  Forgive my cynicism, but I think the poor little bird needs those grapes more than the Pilgrims did.

I was looking up the word Pilgrim because I was wondering if it should be capitalized, and found this definition at Merriam-Webster:  one who journeys in foreign lands.  It was the first definition, so in a sense anyone who travels is a pilgrim—you don’t need a buckled hat and shoes.

This is an official WTF decoration:

Okay, I know that scarecrows can sing and dance; I’ve watched The Wizard of Oz enough times over the years.  When did they start driving Indian corn vehicles with pumpkin tires?  Just like H.R. Puffstuf and The Banana Splits, I think this was inspired by some bad LSD.

I called these two The Molasses Pilgrims:

I think that dark brown glaze is just perfect for bean pots, and I don’t even mind the dripware version with the lighter bands for a few pottery things.  Why would you want to use it on a pair of salt and peppers?  It isn’t particularly attractive, I’m not getting any yummy beans, and you really can’t pick up any details of the Pilgrim figures.  They might as well be pillars of salt and pepper for all we can tell.

Well, just in time for Thanksgiving:

Just what everyone has been clamoring for, solar dancing Pilgrims, or the more sophisticated sounding, solaires.  This is just a really mean idea since in most northern states, at least the ones I lived in, there won’t be any sunshine on Thankgsving Day, in fact you might not really see the sun again until Groundhog Day, if you’re lucky.  So, unless you have your Pilgrim solaires under your SAD lights, they won’t be doing much dancing!

This craft project fits right into the what were they thinking portion of the post:

Yeah, some people should never try to paint freehand, or arrange flowers.  I say this with the full knowledge that I’m one of those people.  I think that this is a waste of a wooden spoon and a perfectly good empty tin can.  They both could be put to much better use stirring some yummy soup and being recycled, respectively.

Just because I’m a masochist, I went looking for Thanksgiving wooden spoon crafts. Because I’m a sadist, I’m showing one to you:

You know, I’ve finally found something to be really thankful for—never having seen this project in real life.  I’m almost fond of the turkey spoon now.

This little turkey candle holder almost seems benign:

Although, in my picture it seems like he is wagging his tail since it looks lopsided.  I’m sure it’s the angle, but unless you take the candle out, there’s no way to be sure.  I think that the best thing about this turkey is the candle.  It looks like one of those nice bayberry candles that smell good when lit, but don’t make you hungry like pumpkin pie scented candles.  (Except you, Kathy, who doesn’t like pumpkin pie, which is practically unAmerican!  😉)

This seems like a good place to remind people what real turkeys look like:

At least this picture explains that bump on the chest of our pottery turkey above.  Real turkeys have some weird cowlick feather thing going on in front, and when anyone makes a decorative turkey, they just HAVE to add that in for realism.  Unless you really know what you’re doing, it would be better just to ignore that chest bump.  Their beaks are different from duck’s beaks, too, but you couldn’t prove it from all the ceramic turkeys we see.

Well, daylight is burning, so I had better just stop and leave Kathy some pictures for next week.  Please enter the drawing if you would like your very own vintage silver-plated cranberry server.  We want to spread the Thanksgiving joy.

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That ’70s Show

Gulp, we are going to end up dating ourselves rather badly during this post, as both Deb and I came of age in the ’70s, so yeah, we are crazy old ladies.  What are you going to do about it?  Actually, if you are ever in our area, and want to go shopping with a couple of crazy old bats, and have a tough leather skin for folks following you around and laughing, hey, look us up!  No really, you would be surprised at how many snickers we hear going on around us, at some of our comments.  We must be hysterical!  But, just look at the material we have!

Take this lamp:

We had an entire conversation with multiple people at the estate sale where we spotted this beauty.  It was made of some sort of fiberglass with splats of green and blue plastic stuck on it.  There was a lady interested in buying it for her daughter-in-law, but she had to see if it worked.  There were several tense moments while myriad extension cords were traced back to outlets, and then “viola!” Nothing happened.  She refused to buy it at the $55.00 price tag, as it “didn’t work”  My comments about changing the “blinkin” light bulb, fell on deaf ears.  Even if there was something more drastic wrong, it could be fixed in less than half an hour.  Sheesh, folks are so helpless.  Don’t be one of those!

To go with your nonworking lamp, how about this groovy chip and dip?

If you weren’t sick before you ate all those chips, you sure would be when you got all the way down to the bottom and spotted that bilious color green.  My dad would have loved this in the ’70s as there was way too much green in my childhood home.  I have scars.

On the other hand, I was much more into this:

I would claim this was for a swingin’ bachelor pad, but it is way too “early American” for that, so let’s just say this is what went into the living room to play Dad’s old Montivani records.  At least until the teens came in and loaded it up with Queen and the Bee Gees.

Here is a little bit better view of the innards:

When Dad had finally had enough, he must have sent the kids to the basement, where they continued to rebel:

We were not sure what was happening here, but Keith Haring, they were not.  Honestly, I might have paid more attention to the decorated walls, but I was busy snapping up a lovely contemporary bronze sculpture for $10.  When I got it upstairs to the gals running the estate sale, I noticed a different sculpture on the table that they were carefully saving, as they thought it might be worth more.  I quietly spent my $10 and snuck out the door.  We are much more kind to individuals making those kinds of mistakes, and might have given them a clue and a bit more money, but if you tout yourself as an estate company, you had better do your homework, or get out of the business.

We bet these pillows might have lived in the same living room as the Hi-Fi:

Actually, they didn’t, but surely they had some just like it?  Nothing like a pissed-off owl, and some mushrooms, at least I think that is what they are, and aren’t most butterflies furry?  Oh wait, it must be a moth.  And no, we are not even going to comment on the hideous couch they are resting on.  This couch was the worst, as it didn’t even have the excuse of being comfortable.  The only way to relax on it was to lay down, and even then it wasn’t great.  Especially with the whole family trying to use the couch, which wouldn’t work at all!

We know these are ugly, but if you opened them and used them, they would go away:

Actually, we both have to admit, we kinda liked them. There it is, you can take the girls out of the ’70s, but you can’t take the ’70s out of the girls.  These were still completely sealed.  Were they saving them for “good”?  Or did they never have an occasion so casual that it called for them?  Maybe they were waiting till they got their complete set of avocado green dishes to really set them off.

They could have used them for a patio party and then worn this hat:

We’ve seen lots of these tourist hats over the years, but this is the first time I have ever noticed one with brooms on it.  Is that for when your everyday witch goes to the beach?  Then she is never without a broom.  Personally, if I was going to hex the whole world by cursing them with your basic “beach body”, I don’t think I would want to advertise my wicked powers.

These last two don’t fall into the right decade, but they were too good to pass up.  We both adored this:

I know it doesn’t look like much, but carefully fold open the top:

And here is your complete bar!  Here is a better look at the contents:

It was missing two of the highball glasses, but the ice bucket, cordials, shaker, and tall glasses were all still there.  This beauty dates to the ’40s and at $350 seemed like a reasonable deal.  Alas, I have a built-in bar, and Deb has a bar already set up.  Plus, neither of us could figure out a square inch to squeeze this in, or one of us would have been making the other one help load it into the truck, that we would have had to go home and get.

We both DID NOT adore this:

There were two of them, so both your children could be damaged for life. Did they never figure out just where that switch came out?  It probably glows in the dark, too.  We know Jesus loves the little children, but they just might want to rethink this!  Sorry, once you see that, you just can’t unsee it!

Don’t seem to be many estate sales this week, so we may have to play, I mean, shop the thrift stores!  No matter, you know we will have fun and entertain the masses!

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We See Weird Things

I’m trying to write this while handing out Halloween candy—it’s been that kind of week.  It was cold and snowy this week so I was planning on getting lots of house stuff done; yay me!  Instead, I was sick with some stupid cold/flu/virus thingie for days, and didn’t get anything done.  We didn’t even get a pumpkin carved which has never happened in the 40 years of our marriage!  Did I forget to say that B.H. is even sicker than I am?  Oh well, time to recoup, recover, and get ’er done next week.  Luckily I have a crazy battery-powered pumpkin that flashes disco lights, I even have the batteries, and of course I have candy!  So all is not lost this Hallows’ Even.

All is not lost for the post either.  I have a Costco-sized backlog of pictures and plan to use a few of them!

We really don’t understand this at all, which happens to us a lot:

This is a bag of tiny plastic canvas flags, we thought.  When I read the front card while looking at the picture, they seem to be some sort of scouting flags from different countries?  Those are the approximate colors on the Armenian flag.  This first card says it is for Armenian boys in France; was that a thing?  Well, I Googled it and it was in the 1920s when a mass influx of Armenian genocide survivors went to France.  I’m not sure what that has to do with Scouting; and surely plastic canvas wasn’t available in the 1920s, was it?  The other flag card that can be seen seems to apply to Thailand, but I can’t read it.  Maybe the most mysterious part of this whole bag is that the thrift store thinks it’s worth $4.

This poor owl looks so sad:

He’s plastic and painted gold which would absolutely make me sad!  I don’t think I could look at him day in and day out; he’s just too depressing.  I think the owl craze is over again, for a while.  We see lots of discarded owl stuff every week; although we all know there is still a crap ton of it lurking in Grandma’s house.

We were looking at this shelf and said that we didn’t know that the Hummel people made ornaments:


Then we picked one up and realized that they were plastic!  Turning one over we saw the mark, Made in Macau, and the jig was up.  You can’t fool us—Hummels were made in Germany!  Although I’m ashamed to say that I had to look up Macau to see where it was.  (South coast of China, across the Pearl River Delta from Hong Kong.)  Just looking at them, they look pretty good if you like Hummels.  Pretty sure they would hang on the Christmas tree better than a real Hummel, too.

Did I say we have seen some really weird things in the last couple of months?


Because we have!  So this seems to be a rodenty bridal couple, although for a while we were leaning aardvark.  A quick glimpse, which was all we could take, at their behinds showed earthworm-like tales.  So mouse or rat it is, although I bet neither group would claim these two.  I don’t think that we flipped them over to look for a mark; I’m certainly hoping they were made by some hopelessly untalented home crafter.  It was an act of the greatest optimism to think that anyone would buy this pair.  At least I thought so until I saw these two:

I’m definitely going out on a limb here to say these two children were decorated by an extremely untalented painter.  Maybe even a very young child who hadn’t learned to color in the lines yet and that the eye is white with a colored iris, not the other way around.  Why were they preserved and taken to a thrift store is a mystery for the ages.  Another puzzler is why the thrift store thought that anyone will buy these two blank-eyed undead waifs.  You can’t fix this; the only decent thing to do is bury them!

This was amusing; both the idea and the name:

For the host who longs to slide a beer down the bar, but doesn’t have any self-confidence or a long wooden bar.  Set your guest’s Scotch on this and make him catch it when it comes shooting across the kitchen counter, or whatever you’re using for a bar.  And after a few Scotches, laugh at your company as they try to get the glass back on something that rolls around.  I would try this first with a glass of water before you break the good stuff out!

We went to an estate sale that sounded promising.  Boy were we wrong!  We have been to this company’s sales before and they vary from normal, boring things to fantastic (the old clothing sale in Cheyenne WY).  We usually can find a thing or two to buy, but not this time:

It was out in a barn and we know what ranchers and farmers put in their barns when there are no animals—broken, weird things.  I have to say that the barn smelled like there had been animals in there recently so we were pretty careful with our feet.  Plus, nothing had been cleaned!  We couldn’t even see through the glass on some of the framed pictures.  Most of the stuff had something wrong with it, too.  Just a huge pile of junk.  However, we did take a couple of photos.

We don’t get this:


How is a fakey grandfather clock better than a more traditional jewelry box?  Or even as good?  This one was missing its top finial, and had really seen better days, so no one was even glancing its way.  This jewelry box is the whole sale in a microcosm; no wonder we didn’t buy anything.

We didn’t get this, either:

You can see how enormous this badminton birdie is by comparing it to the one back on the racket, with the red arrow pointing at it.  Godzilla birdie was made just like a regular birdie, but I think trying to hit it with a regular racket could just put a hole in your racket, dear Liza, dear Liza.  This just in: B.H. says that large birdies are for slowing the game down, like a wiffle ball.

I have a piece of history that my sister-in-law gave me:


When I visited Texas in May, she gave us a bunch of old stuff that she didn’t want any more.  These hatpins were in with some sewing notions and buttons.  They are more than a foot long, because they are from the the late 1800s through the 1910s when hair was big and hats were bigger.  Because it became fashionable to have hats without strings, there had to be a way to keep them on your head.  And the pins just kept getting bigger, and kind of dangerous with the sharp end poking out of the hat.  In fact, laws were enacted in the US because women were rumored to be using these long hatpins on men engaged in bad behavior.  It was also feared that suffragettes, those violent anarchists, would use hatpins against the police and crowds while protesting.  I wish I had had one of these hatpins a couple of times in my life—just to discourage a couple of scalawags.

I finished this just in time to turn out the light after a surprising number of hearty trick-or-treaters braving the cold.  Hope you all had a spooktacular Halloween!

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