Indian Summer is in full swing here in northern Colorado; I’m picking tomatoes faster than ever now. Guess it’s a “better late than never” scenario. This weekend is supposed to be super nice and sunny–hopefully that means more garage sales.
Last Friday was anything but nice and sunny. It was misting and cool, but we still found a few garage sales being held in actual garages. Of course we still went to Goodwill; while there we saw an unusual visitor:
The poor magpie had picked up something on the sidewalk in front of the open door and then flew right inside. Once in the store, it seemed to panic and was flying up and down the aisles looking for a way out. Unfortunately, the doors are much lower than the ceiling, so it didn’t look like the magpie was willing to fly low enough to get outside. It ended up perched on a Women’s wear sign. Of course this happened on a day when the CEO of Goodwill and the area manager were visiting the store. Hopefully, someone called animal control so they could come out with their net and help the magpie get back outdoors. They are really smart birds (related to crows) but with all the windows, commotion, and people around, it’s no wonder this one panicked.
It’s fun to look at the thrift store clothing around this time of the year. They frequently save unusual items for the Halloween costume crowd. I think this pair of shoes qualifies:
There’s a lot going on here–white sheep, black sheep, flowers, studs on the heels, and then polka dots and skulls on the inner lining. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t walk on those heels on the best of days, without all the distraction, er decorations causing me to stare at my shoes (probably singing “Baa Baa Black Sheep”) instead of where I was trying to walk.
We saw these comic books and were dragged back to bad Seventies TV series:
I don’t remember Valley of the Dinosaurs for the very good reason that it was only on for three months, September 1974 to December 1974. Unfortunately for Valley of the Dinosaurs, its start coincided with the Land of the Lost premier; V.o.t.D. never recovered, while L.o.t.L. ran for three years.
On the other hand, I remember Irwin Allen’s Land of the Giants all too well. It actually began in 1968, so I wasn’t too busy being a teenager to watch TV with the family. Who could forget the giant hands reaching for one of our heroes, the giant pencils on the desks, or the convenient pipes leading to wherever our intrepid band wanted to go?
We both thought this doll swing was adorable:
It was too small for any but the smallest of infants–that’s why we think it was for dollies. Also, it looks a little too rickety for infant use, although we’ve seen enough scary baby stuff from the ’60s and ’70s to absolutely rule out it being a baby swing. Any who, it was really cute, but we don’t have baby dolls, and of course Goodwill wanted more than we were willing to pay to have it clutter up our homes. We told ourselves that it was better that it goes to a child to play with, instead of two middle-aged “grownups”.
It was a day of kind of cool things, like this thermos:
You would be stylin’ for sure hauling this baby out to the park. It weighed a ton; realistically, it should have come with a set of wheels to prevent herniated discs while carrying it to your picnic table. Dad would be encouraging the kids to drink up to lighten the load going back to the car.
You knew it was too good to last. We were bound to see something, or somethings, painful:
It always amazes me how someone could mess up flowers. I’m probably a little more critical than most of flower decorations; I spend a lot of time in the garden tending my own, and so I’m pretty familiar with how they’re SUPPOSED to look. I’m hoping that the center flower is a purple poppy, and not a pansy–it’s one of the biggest flowers in the arrangement. The fact that I’m not sure if it’s a poppy (oops, I originally typed poopy) or pansy tells you about the quality of the papier-mache decoration.
Then, there is this cat:
I’m not sure what she did, but it was bad! If she were mine, I would be looking in my shoes before slipping them on, or check out my bed before jumping in. Better be safe than sorry, in this situation. Her attitude would be, “You were warned, it’s not my fault!”
We just felt sorry for this guy, once we figured out what it was:
I’m sure Mr. Seal is just thinking, “What did I do to deserve this?” He’s been punished enough; I should have bought him and put him outside, in some far corner, where he could live out his days in privacy.
Here’s a whole pile of bad:
I’ve never understood people who had those settees, or whatever you call them, for company to sit on while visiting. They aren’t comfortable at all … ohhh, it all becomes clear; how diabolical! The only thing missing are stale cookies and pucker-up lemonade.
This clearly does not belong in my house:
I hate to be reminded of all the stuff I haven’t gotten done yet! By the end of the month, my board would resemble a ghillie suit made of paper slips!
I smell a rat:
Well, he could be a mouse, but either way I’m not having it in my home. It’s mouseapalooza time at my house right now. It’s getting cool at night and we have a dog door going out to a pen, so it’s an open invitation to all the mousies out there to come on in! In the past, we had our very own personal fox living in some brush out back. He was a welcome tenant as he earned his keep mousing; who cared if he helped himself to a few berries, and garden goodies from time to time, as well as stealing shoes to play with. Sadly, we no longer have foxes, and now have lots, and lots of mice. We set humane traps in the garage and haul them to natureal areas to release them into the wild. If we start early enough, we don’t get meeces in the house. Our dog, Koko, is useless as a mouser; I keep trying to interest him in mice, but it’s a no-go so far. My other chihuahua, Xena, loved to mouse. She might not have caught them, but she sure chased them and at least I knew there was a problem.
Finally, a couple of signs that pretty much sum up our philosophy of life:
Have a wonderful weekend! I’m hoping to go out and kick some leaves while walking–it keeps you young at heart.