Tag Archives: thrift

Return of the Ouija meets return of the blogger

20 Sep

I’m such a slacker.  Don’t know what’s come over me.  Actually, that’s not true.  I’ve gotten a little carried away with the soldering iron.  It’s overtaken all my free time and most of my conversations.  And today I spent all my free time hauling junk for my space in Llano!  (Well, actually that was two days ago!  I’m just now finishing this post!!)

But…let me get to the point of this blog.  The alleged stolen Ouija has resurfaced.  It was stuffed behind a bunch of stuff somewhere else in the store.  The planchette has yet to be recovered.  And since I can’t think of ANY other use for such an item, I’m left believing it’s stashed somewhere in the shop as well.  The question that will never be answered remains … did someone hide the Ouija so they could be sure it was there when they had some available Ouija cash? Or … was it stolen, only to be returned due to the baaaaadddddd curse it was sure to bring to the thief?  Guess we’ll never know.  So, indeed, this little bit of information left me no other choice but to FINALLY sit down and blog.  The soldering iron has been put to bed for the evening, just like my entire family.  And I do have pictures from the shop to share tonight.  They were taken a couple of weeks ago, however, so some of the merch has already sold.  But at least you’ll get an idea of what I’ve been finding.  I didn’t go to many estate sales over the summer.  I’d read the listings, and everything sounded too new.  The couple of sales I did force myself to attend weren’t up to par.  So I’ve been relying mostly on my secret sources — HA!  Some secret — and the flea market.  I’ve always had a theory that there’s plenty of junk to go around.  But after a summer of slim pickins’, I’m left to wonder if, in fact, the world can run out of junk.  The love of old stuff seems to maybe skip a generation, so what if we’re approaching a change in generation, huh?  Pretty morbid thought, I know, but I honestly thought about it after seeing new crap everywhere I went over the summer.  But back to those secret sources… The source I stalked forever is, like, junk goddess to the masses.  I’ve run into a number of professional junkers on my visits to her.  In addition, she’s sold to Robin Brown of Magnolia Pearl and to the owner of a local store called Me & My House.  ::pressure::  I do have one anonymous source that I can’t reveal.  She’ll give me the boot if I do.  She said so.  Our meetings remain one big happy secret.  On my part, at least.  And any success that I’ve earned so far is a credit, in part, to her good eye.

I hope these photos are eye candy for you:

 

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spectacular metal table with glass top is still available.

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This is my favorite display space.  While I’d love the cabinet to sell, I’ll miss it when it does.  It holds everything!!

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Even with her missing arm, she was a keeper… just not for me.  She’s on layaway for some lucky customer!

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Radio is still available, along with 1914 yearbook and boy statue.  Sadly, the pair was split.

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Phone cubby only lasted a couple of days in the shop.  Loving cup is still available.

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One of my favorite finds ever:  a pair of leather boxing gloves for a child, with laces!  Still available…

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old urn is gone.  Book and chair are still in the shop, but have been moved from this empty space, that I kinda just filled to look like a lovely fall garden, to my own space.

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I love the colors — or lack thereof — in this photo.  Everything is still at Homestead, with the exception of the spools (which I have more of at home) and the really wonderful crazed and stained ironstone platter.

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Bowling balls … they’re not just for breakfast anymore…

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Steampunk.  Ahhhh.  Headed to Llano soon, since they haven’t sold.  And speaking of Steampunk, Sari Jane now has her steampunk jewelry at Homestead!  I’m a proud owner of earings and a necklace made from watch parts sans rubies. 

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The black book with the cross on it has sold.  It was a turn-of-the-century devotional written in a foreign language that looked a lot like Spanish.  But, according to a Spanish speaker, it was not Spanish.  So … I’m stumped.

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The mirror sold a couple of days ago.  The metal piece reflected in it, which is another one of my favorite things, is still there.  It’s an old table top that would be groovy above a fireplace.  Or over a bed.  Or in the middle of a big ol’ empty wall.  Or just about any place, really, since it’s so cool. 

That’s it for now.  It’s 1:08 according to my computer clock, so I must retire.  The flea bites early in the a.m.  Hope your dreams are sweet and junky!

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Shop Stalking

13 Jun

I can’t help myself.  I peeked in the windows Wednesday.  I know what goodies are being held captive inside.  I want to rescue them.  I want to rescue them NOW.  Therefore, I’ve become … Shop Stalker. 

So I used to buy junk — serious junk — from this woman.  Suddenly she disappears, cutting me off cold turkey without an explanation. Then I hear she’s opening her own shop.  I could feel my heart revving.  Then I find out she’s selling already, but she’s only there in the evenings… random evenings.  Well…I’mnever there in the evenings and can’t even come up with a decent excuse to BE there in the evenings.  So, today, I have an excuse to “just drop by.”  I had taken my son over to a friend’s house in the same general — okay, within 5 miles — area.  So I just happened to be in the neighborhood.  I dropped by the woman’s old shop.  “Just have some linens for you to see,”  I told the shop owner, who I knew would salivate at the sight of my tub o’ goodies.  She makes pillows from old linens and had told me recently she’s in desperate need.  “So, hey, is the new shop open today?” I ask so very casually, only to discover I had missed the mystery woman by half an hour.  Bummer.  Once again I find myself baking in the 100-degree oven just to get a glimpse of the locked-up goods, completely in love with every single piece of junk I could see through the security bars.  Lots of wrought iron.  Lots of broken statues.  A beautiful bed.  An old, old cabinet with a barely-recognizable mirror.   

Luckily, my shop owner friend still has the mystery woman’s phone numbers, and she calls to find out if the new shop will be open again later in the day.  Unluckily, the new shop — unnamed as far as I can tell — won’t be “officially” opening ’til next Saturday.  Say it isn’t so!  Alas, I must wait an entire week to free all those fabulous finds calling to me from behind those burglar bars.  I’ll “just drop by” next week, however, on Wednesday or Thursday.  Take only a quick peek and maybe snap a picture, if at all possible, before gathering my linen leftovers from my shop owner friend and driving home an empty-handed and broken-hearted woman. 

But Saturday will be a different story.  That junk will be mine.  Oh, yes…it will be mine.

You light up my life

29 May

I’ve entered my lamp-lovin’ phase, I think.  I don’t have many lamps in my home.  I know, I know…I really should.  But the only actual lamps I can think of are in my bedroom, my younger son’s bedroom and our dining room.  My house has pathetic lighting to begin with, so I could use some extra bulbs burning brightly, or dimly, or alternating between the two.  Over the past week, I’ve purchased nine lamps.  Two floor lamps, a pair of matching bedside lamps that need to be rewired, three matching lamps with girly-girl shades, a very shabby lamp that I topped with a perfectly ratty old shade and some crystals and immediately took to the shop, and a Rembrandt lamp that I intend to keep.  Here’s a peek at the Rembrandt lamp:

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Isn’t she lovely?  I have a friend that rewires lamps, so she’s going to take a look at her for me.  She’s a keeper, for sure.

So maybe my lamp phase is colliding with my fussy, frilly feminine phase, ’cause I also took a liking to these:

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They have the prettiest little rose details:

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I’m in love…BUT…they’re going to the shop tomorrow.  Their mate will stay at my house for the time being, however, but not forever.  Here she is:

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One more view of the lampshade:

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Okay…maybe ONE more:

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Now I’m done gushing.  So what do you think?  Have I gone mad?  One last photo before I hit the hay.  This is one of a couple of floor lamps I got at auction:

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Now it’s time to turn OUT the lights.  The party’s over…

The junk in my trunk

27 Apr

Yeah, I do know the meaning of the phrase, but I’m being literal here — as in the minivan hatch.  Let me show you:

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That wicker thing is a shabby old garden cart.  Those metal pieces to the left are the bottoms of two birdcage stands.  There are frames and screen guards under the cart, along with a phone stand that must’ve been ripped right out of someone’s house.  Bad bird cage that was on one of the stands is to the right.  It’ll be replaced with a better birdcage before heading to the shop.

Here’s another view:

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That blue thing is a very shabby bentwood “chair.”  It has no back and the caning in the seat has a huge hole, which only enhanced its appeal, naturally.  Under that is a bicycle basket, and you can spot a decent birdcage to the left.

Here’s the recap of the Saturday Junking Emergency…Neighborhood sale was nothing but a waste of gas.  I spent a couple of hours and $20 and came away with only a seashell, a scrabble game, a little bookshelf that was begging to be painted, a stool that will be cute once it’s painted and recovered, and I can’t even remember what else.  But there must be more because that doesn’t even add to $20.  Is it possible I spent less?  On the visit to the 50% off estate sale, I picked up the two bird cages on stands, the garden cart and an old framed photo that I was so surprised to find.  I thought for sure it would have been sold already.  I also snagged some other framed art and a christening outfit.  You can make out the old framed photo in the stack of junk pictured below:

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After grabbing a couple of tacos — San Antonio’s choice for any meal — I headed to another estate sale that was on its 25% off day.  I almost skipped this sale because I don’t usually junk in new neighborhoods, especially taupevilles that grew after clear-cutting my beloved hill country (but that’s another post).  I’m glad I broke my rule on this sale.  I picked up a dozen or so wedding cake toppers for a song.  I’m not sure they’re all that old, but a little tea staining goes a long way, right?  I found a beautiful satin baby bed coverlet that was aching to join the goods earmarked for my new shop space.  Got a few books.  All-in-all it was well worth the visit to taupeville.

This morning — or rather Sunday morning, as it’s already Monday — I hit the flea market as usual.  I got the most amazingly huge megaphone.  I LOVE it.  My favorite find, by far.  I also picked up an old radio horn (speaker), and lots of other regular stuff.  I later headed to the shop with a freshly painted and distressed table, since I had sold a bookshelf the day prior, so junk was overflowing in my space!  While I was at the shop, I noticed the occupants of my new May1 space had already moved out.  So since I happened to have a can of paint in the minivan, I spent the afternoon turning forest green rafters into cream rafters.  The change was amazing.  But after listening to country music on a radio for more than five hours, I was ready to shoot myself or leave.  I opted on the latter since my house is such a disaster… death would be the more embarrassing of the alternatives.  Mi casa is NOT your casa this week, thankyouverymuch.  After dinner this evening I had the pleasure of unloading my junkmobile.  My favorite activity!!  I’ve been invited to a private estate sale tomorrow and then have a garden bench to pick up from a Craigslister, so I had to make room for more JUNK!   Then THAT IS IT.  I must finish painting since move-in day is Friday!  NO MORE JUNKING this week … unless it’s an emergency, of course.