It was really nice to take a little vacation last weekend. All of four days, but it is more than we have taken in the last three years, so hooray! We went up toward the Black Hills, but skipped most of the touristy stuff, as we have done that many times. We waved at Crazy Horse on the way by, took a peek at Mount Rushmore from afar, and headed out to the Badlands. Along the way we stopped at oodles of little antique shops and had a blast. I took a few photos, so have some fun things to share.
I am going to get this off my chest right away; sorry in advance:
They let clowns on the loose everywhere! This was in an antique mall in Rapid City that was billed as the state’s largest and best. (Can’t be if they have this in stock!) We spent a bit of time here, and I kept getting grouchier and grouchier. I thought maybe I was hangry, or tired, and then I realized it was because it was a bunch of folks who thought everything they owned was made of gold. These things really were a bunch of flea market rejects priced at New York antique store prices. The clown might have pushed me over the edge. About halfway through, I looked at my husband and asked if he wanted to get out of there and he heartily agreed. So do yourself a favor and skip this place.
On the other hand we stopped at a spot in Keystone that was so much fun. Keystone is just below Mount Rushmore, and who would think that you could find a bargain there, but we sure did. If you follow the road away from the touristy boardwalk, there is a tiny little main street. There was a super fun rock shop, and a little general store that looks like they stopped getting merchandise in the ’30s and it is all still there. The fellow in charge invited us to look around, make a pile, and know that the bigger the pile the better the price. We had a blast, but I did want to share this behemoth that was down in the basement:
Can you imagine being excited to get a furnace like this? The whole thing terrifies me, but hey, S. Dakota is damn cold in the winter; this was probably the best thing since sliced bread when it came out.
I took this photo for Deb, as she is a poodle person [Deb here. He is awfully cute! BH is grateful that you didn’t buy him]:
I have seen much worse. He looked at each person that walked by with a hopeful gleam in his eye, hoping that this is the person that would take him home. He has some pretty stiff competition in cutie patootie kitties on either side of him, although they would raise your general blood sugar by quite a bit.
This was at one of those side of the road antique stops that cater to tourists, but overall the selection was pretty good and the prices were reasonable. They were having a weekend flea market for other vendors as well, so it was worth the stop, even though my brain will never be the same after seeing this:
Would you really park your keister in that seat? I think there had better be a whole lot of drinking done before that happens. Bar stool or not, I think I would prefer to stand. Couldn’t bring myself to look at the price. They might have thought I was interested!
I didn’t take a whole lot of pix, as I was busy relaxing and shopping. Now it is back to business as usual, and I have some other fun things to share, so hold on. We had a fine loyal reader send us some fun things. She knows us so well:
The How to Paint was pretty neat, and honestly, the advice is still very spot on. I always wish these had the color samples with them, as the old paint combos are extra cool. The infant care was fairly decent, too, but I have done all the damage I can to the summer intern, and am now on the sidelines till I get to be grandma. I am not holding my breath. The crochet book, on the other hand was delightful. Most of the patterns were super pretty, like the one on the front. But there is always a clunker or two in the bunch:
That first one reads as bib, no matter what. Perfect for that dinner party when you know they will be serving lobster. Or be prepared for the new mom when you drop by and she insists on you holding junior. You can transfer the bib from your neck to his in a jiffy and be ready with that bottle.
The back cover was the real kicker:
Am I the only one that reads this as space alien? It is titled The Westpoint Collar, so I think it was supposed to be military, but I see it done in silver, and on Outer Limits. The booklet dates to the ’30s so probably not, but it is just begging to be made this way. If you need the pattern, feel free to message us, but we want photographic evidence, not just hearsay, that you made it.
Thought I would end with a couple of cool things. We kinda liked these little spindle dollies:
While they are not a fantastic paint job, they are passable and rather cute. Nothing wrong with a couple of gals out for a Sunday jaunt in their best hats. Not sure what you do with them, so we left them right there. Hopefully someone took them home to love them.
This last one is a true confession. Deb thinks I have a problem, and she may be right. [Deb here. I just asked when Kathy was going to build the sewing machine wing on her house. Absolutely no judgement since I have several problematic collections myself.] I have a perfectly good workhorse Singer sewing machine, I have a treadle that I bought in high school, I have a serger because hey, you need one of those. I have two Featherweights, oops, starting to get out of hand. I have a Singer model 20 (toy) and an English toy machine, a big old White rotary machine because it needed me, a 66 that came into my home accidentally with a case of sewing items, plus a little throwaway plastic sewing machine that I thought would be good to move around. So what do I go and do? Buy this of course, and make my hubby drive 120 miles round trip to get it:
She was just so darn cute, and only $20 bucks. She is frozen solid, but should be able to get going with just a bit of time, oil and elbow grease. She is a German hand-crank machine, and dates to the ’20s or ’30s. Of course her name will be Rosie, and I really don’t have a problem, do I?
Here’s hoping all your collecting dreams come true, and if not, wishing you all the thrill of the hunt. And I guess if you see an orphan sewing machine, you know who to call.