It must be late summer in Colorado. This morning it is a cool 48 degrees, and by this afternoon it is supposed to be 95. My poor plants can’t seem to figure out what to do—the tomatoes are just starting to try to ripen, and by now, I am usually swimming in them. There are several other things, pumpkins, eggplants, etc. that are just sitting there looking at me, and are never going to do anything this year. Oh well, look under optimist in the dictionary and you find a picture of a gardener. Luckily, come heat or cold the sales go on, and if there aren’t any, well, there is always a thrift store or two at the ready.
Deb and I live by this:
Good thing we know when to keep silent, although you might not guess that if you ever followed us around in a thrift store, because when there, we really have no filters. We just don’t talk about each other! We have heard folks crack up two aisles over when one of us is particularly clever. If we could only remember the best snarky comments to write down. We should probably take a tape recorder, or have paparazzi follow us around.
We also liked this sign:
Hey, works for us. I didn’t notice till Deb put up the photo the Coors (or Rocky Mountain Elk Water, as it’s affectionately known around here) beer pull knob. Apparently this was a God fearing, bible reading person and took it all to heart. Wonder why they reformed? Lucky us, we don’t choose to. Our mamas took us to Sunday school, and who are we to question the good book? Now pass that margarita, and skip the Colorado Kool-Aid (yet another euphemism for Coors).
We saw this at a sale a couple of week ago:
I don’t know if you can read it, but it says this is a rice cooker! This baby was around three feet tall, so this is no counter-top model. While I like rice as much as the next person, I don’t think I need this much EVER. We figured it could be a commercial one, but A. it was rose pink with flower decals, and B. it was sort of flimsy plastic construction. Now I suppose that the company figured all those pro chefs needed a little perky bit of floral decor in their five-star kitchens, but it seems like a waste of a can of pink paint. Any ideas on this one are welcome.
One of our favorite things at garage sales is visiting with the pets. This feline was clearly in charge of the whole show:
They probably could have made more money at their sale by asking for a quarter to pet him, as he demanded his due from every passerby. This was the same sale as the rice cooker; we should have asked the cat!
We spotted this at another garage sale the same day:
We thought it was adorable, but not for the $5.00 they had on it. Also, while cute, I bet most of these bit the dust when the child tried to mix a mud pie with it, so I guess it might be pretty rare, as, at least when we were kids, mud pies were always on the menu. This was one of those sales where if had even a modicum of age to it, they put $20.00 on it. They had a box of salt and pepper shakers that the lady assured us she had been collecting since the ’60s and for the delightful price of $150 you could have had six or seven pairs of them. We don’t even try to change peoples minds, but we sure do judge! You should hear us in the car! Or maybe not, as you might have to become our best friend, too.
Once we have hit a few garage sales, we tend to move on to the thrift stores, and in one of them we saw these:
Really? Rattan baby booties? WTF. I have never thought baby booties were very decorative, no matter what they are made out of. Bronzed baby shoes are a fashion that has thankfully passed (although we see the cast-off ones pretty often), and let’s not start it up again. I could possible buy that these were for a baby shower. Maybe one of those groovy ’70s ones with all the natural hemp diapers that you could use or smoke. But even then, shouldn’t they be pink or blue? Or yellow or green if the sex is still a surprise? (I just read that last sentence and was feeling a really inappropriate comment coming on, but I will stifle it, at the cost of yet a few more best friends!)
While we are questioning the existence of things, would someone please explain this:
We couldn’t figure it out. The fellow just looks surprised and the woman is covering her ears. Does this mean she doesn’t want to hear about it anymore? Maybe he is saying “talk to the hand”. If they were flinging themselves out of buildings and dressed for the roaring 20’s it might make sense, although the taste would still remain questionable.
We also spotted this pair:
Strange bed-fellows indeed. While the clownish one is not the worst I have seen, I am pretty sure that gal in pink could do better. Maybe the Wall Street Victim is available? Actually, we have never seen a clown doll with a mouse? head before, so it’s a first, and while not great, at least not terrifying. Looking at the photo, this must have been a garage sale, too. Nothing like throwing your belongings on the driveway to make for some unusual combinations.
This last item was definitely at a thrift, and was rather terrifying:
She is really hard to see in the bag, but she was made of some sort of plaster, perhaps a chalkware figure. Here is a closeup of the face, so you can see how bad she was, as the above pic really doesn’t look scary enough:
We thought she had sort of maniacal “Here’s Johnny” from the Shining vibe. I wouldn’t trust those teeth in a dark room, but the kicker was on the bottom:
We want to know if she dropped Gerald like a hot potato after that gift. Maybe the tag on the bottom was a reminder to NEVER answer his calls, and for heaven’s sake, don’t open any box he gives you. Poor Gerald, he should have said it with flowers.
Well, I better toddle along and throw some water at my plants, now that they aren’t shivering and before the sun starts to bake them from the roots up! I shouldn’t complain; winter is coming.