Is that all there is?

On Saturdays I usually hop in the car with my best two girlfriends and we go out junking.  (And, yes, sometimes we sing.  One of the girl's favorite new song is "Friday" by Rebecca Black.  Yeah, it's cute, but it gets tiresome.)

Anyway, we hit at least 9 or 10 sales and there was just NOTHING there.  Okay, there was stuff, but not stuff we wanted.  Here's my booty:

Bone china mug, reproduction Fire King Jadite mug (the price was right) and a willow cup from Syracuse China.  (The saucer was marked "Blatt Band" and "Made in Sweden" - and we know where the Syracuse cup was made, right?)

And though it wasn't a hot day, July is right around the corner.

We did enjoy each other's company and laughed and stuffed ourselves at lunch afterwards, and that was the best.

Did you find anything good this weekend?

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Reading for pleasure

I love to read. I'm sucker for books that nobody loves, too. So is it any wonder I rescued a book from a free box at one of the yard sales on Saturday. As if that wasn't bad enough, this had been a library discard. It's called Adopted Jane.

Here's the Amazon description: Jane Douglas has lived at an orphanage for long as she can remember. Reliable and sensible, she has watched other children come and go, but never once has any family wanted to adopt Jane. Then one magical summer Jane receives not one, but two, invitations to live in a real house with a real family for a month each. If only the summer could last forever.

I read it over the weekend and it's a sweet book. I think I'm going to keep it.

I also hit another sale and found a copy of Mastering The Art of French Cooking by Julia Child, Simone Beck, and Louisette Bertholle.

Of course, I probably would have NEVER bought it if I hadn't seen the movie Julie & Julia, which I've now seen at least ten times.  The woman who sold it to me said, "Someone's going to be cooking."  I said, "Not me.  I only want to page through it because I saw the movie."  She said, "I learned a lot from that movie."  I said, "I learned NOT to crowd the mushrooms!" and we both laughed.

I imagine I'll get an hour or two of pleasure flipping through this cookbook.  (The movie really intimidated me when it comes to trying any of the recipes.)

What books have you recently acquired?

What I found while junking . . .

Finally.  Going to yard sales is starting to become fun again.  Once again I scored some nice stuff for not much cash.

My first purchase as a lovely little china plate with roses.  Isn't it sweet?

Next up, I got a hand-painted china tray.  I guess it's a dresser tray ... I just love it.

Went to a sale put on my the local ambulance corp and found this sweet little cup with roses on it.  (Seeing a theme here?)  It was only a dime.  No saucer, but it looked lonely and I couldn't resist.

I love it's pedigree, too.

I got a few other things, but I'll save them for tomorrow.

So, what do you think?

Did The Money Pit Claim Another Life?

So there I was, checking to see if my stained doilies were bleaching out in the sun.  Soak them with lemon juice, hang them up to dry. Voila!  Pretty whites once more.  Only the stains on these were pretty bad.  (Had someone tried and failed to tea dye them?)

Then, feeling all Martha Stewarty, I decided to check on my new red climbing rose.  The first bloom!  It's gorgeous.

So as I was passing the money pit (in-ground pool), I notice a very tiny little swimmer, tiring fast.  Whoa!  A chipmunk.  "Hang on, little chipmunk!" I called (yes, I actually did), and ran for the net skimmer (with the million foot pole).  I scooped him out and he (well, it looked like a he), gratefully stopped paddling.  I carried him over to the ivy in the shade and he closed his little eyes and straightened out his little limbs.  I don't know if he was already dead, but I'm pretty sure I didn't find him in time.  I gently laid him on the ivy and he sank into it.

Sometimes they revive.  Sometimes they don't.  I always feel awful if I can't save whatever is drowning.  How frightening it must be to weigh about 8 ounces and be unable to get out of a 26,000 gallon pool.

I find myself looking out the window a lot more in the summer months, just because I try to look out for the creatures that go flying across the concrete and don't know there's an ocean in front of them hidden over a small rise of concrete.

I sure hope the little guy made it.

And now for something completely different

Today on the blog, I’m interviewing my long-time friend Tonya Thomas.  She’s a writer who has had some success writing about “women in complicated relationships.”  She’s pulled together five of her short stories and put them into one package, which is available on Kindle, Nook, and Smashwords (which sells all e reader formats).

What made you write the stories contained in THE EDGE AND I?
I’ve wanted to be a novelist for most of my life, but getting published isn’t exactly easy.  I hoped to “break” into the business by writing short stories.  And I did it. 

Did you personally experience any of the events in your women’s fiction stories?
Yes.  But I won’t tell which story is semi-autobiographical.  But feel free to guess.

There's a lot of hardship in these stories.  My favorite was Trapped In An Abusive Relationship.  I've known women who've been in that kind of situation.
I write about strong women who don't always make the right decisions when it comes to relationships. But in the end, they manage to pull their lives together.  My deepest hope is that someone will read my stories and be inspired to change their own lives--or the lives of someone they know to be in a desperate situation.

Where did you get the title of your newest release?
LOL--my cover designer and I came up with it.  I tossed her a bunch of picture ideas and a bunch of titles and told her to choose something, since coming up with titles isn’t my forte.  She tweaked it and voila!  The Edge And I has a lovely cover.

Tonya and I often go to yard sales together.  Will you ever write about our junking expeditions?
Hmm…I never thought about it, but I suppose I could make it a mystery story.  I’ll think about it.

Of course, I’ll want to read that story first--just to make sure you get all the details right.
Of course.

What’s next on your writing agenda?
I’m working on a fantasy saga.  Right now I see at least six stories in the series.  I hope to have the first one completed before the end of the year.

Thanks for visiting today.
Thank you for having me.

Please visit Tonya at her blog (A Touch Of Tonya) or on Facebook.  (She’s also on Twitter as @TonyaThomas1)  And you can visit her Amazon store, too.

An Office Make-Over?

And so I have decided to do a make-over on my tiny office.

This sounds really easy, right?  Paint the walls.  Maybe get a new carpet remnant.  And add a few shelves.  Oh, and did I mention there's a slight money shortage?

The truth is I've been looking at yard sales for two years now, trying to find some bookshelves that will fit.  So far no good.  I did visit a thrift store the other day and there sat the perfect sized shelf. It had two very big problems.  Price ($20) and condition.  The thing was peeling paint like crazy.  I would bet that the shelf was built before 1969, which means it's probably got lead paint on it.  It would need a lot of sanding, and I really don't want to deal with lead dust.

I'm looking for something along these lines:

I don't want to buy a cheap chipboard shelf, either.  So ... my search will go on.

What's on your yard sale wish list?

Just stop it, Betty!

A few months ago I needed a recipe for cookies and I signed up on the Betty Crocker web site.  At the time I thought it was a good idea.  Okay, so I knew Betty would probably contact me periodically and try to sell me something.  It goes with the territory.

But now I'm getting emails a couple of times a week.  Betty is trying to knock me right off my diet.

She's sending me recipes for all kinds of good stuff that's bad for me.  Stuff like cakes and brownies and cookies.  Okay, I'm weak-willed, I want to not only MAKE all this stuff, but eat it, too.

So just cut it out, Betty.

Or else!

What's tempting you from YOUR diet?

Peace to all on Memorial Day

No sales this week

The weather has been terrible lately, and quite often when I arrive at a yard sale ... it's not there.  Or rather, because of the rainy weather, the person putting on the sale has closed up.

That's always a disappointment because at least I made the effort to come to their sale.  But I can understand that if it's cold and dank, you wouldn't want to be huddled in your garage or under a tarp on the hope that one or two people will show up.

This week Mr. Ivy and I have a house guest, so no sales for me.  But my best friends will go to the yard sales without me.  They have my list--they know what I like, so I'm hoping I get a call around lunchtime tomorrow from one of my friends saying, "We got you ...."

I'm crossing my fingers.

In the meantime, June 4th is usually the big street sale in Lyons.  That's my favorite sale of the year and I'm hoping it's still on, because not only do I usually find some nice bargains, but one of the houses sells fried dough.  Yum!  Not good for the waistline, but comfort food for the soul.

I'll let you know!

The Quest

Can it really be three years since I gave up my booth in the antiques arcade?

Of course, my booth was never as cool as I wanted it to be.  First of all, I never had the money to invest in the kind of stock I wanted to sell.  And there's no guarantee if I had better stock that I would have had better sales.  (Many of my co-op neighbors had the kind of stock I wanted to sell, and they weren't doing any better than me.)

I bought most of my stock from garage/tag sales.  I used to start shopping for stuff I could resell in early April, going to any and every garage sale.  With the price of gas, I haven't been to many sales this year.  But this weekend, we did make the rounds.

It's painful not to be able to buy the stuff I normally would.  I saw so many vintage orange juice glasses in mint condition for a quarter (which were guaranteed to sell for $2.99 each...eventually), and jewelry, and dishware, and Pyrex and....

These days I "shop" for other things.  My family puts in requests and I go find them.  My mother collects hankies with crocheted edges.  Got two of them for her on Friday.  Mr. Ivy wanted a meat tenderizer.  Got one of them.  For myself, I'm looking for blue plates.  (I'm decorating a bedroom and have chosen blue and white plates.)  Found a really old one for a quarter and, even better, a bag of plate hangers (at least 15--they're a bit tangled) for $2.

A portion of my booth was devoted to used books.  I can't stop looking at all the titles when I walk into a sale, and Saturday I found something I've been looking for for about a year:  a beautiful hardcover edition of A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett (illustrated by Tasha Tudor) for fifty cents.  (I've already read half of it.  I'd seen two movie versions of the story, but never read the book.)

And then the holy grail of my searches:  1950s "Made In Japan" Christmas figurines.  First up, a Santa & Mrs. Claus sitting on a see-saw music box; wind it up and it plays "Jingle Bells" while the Santa and Mrs. bop up and down (for $2).  And then at the North Rose Ladies Auxilery sale at the fire hall, a duplicate of what started my collection about 15 years ago:  a Santa and reindeer "candelabra" that spells out NOEL.  Now, do I really need a second one?  Of course not, but it was only a buck.  In mint condition--IN THE ORIGINAL BOX!!!!!!

In all, I spent less than $10, but boy, what cheap entertainment.

What are you looking for at tag sales and flea markets?

Time to hit the yard sale trail . . .

And the garage sale season is on!

Yesterday I had to run an errand to return something to a friend, so I decided to drop by a rummage sale on the way.

Unlike other years,the church decided that they needed to make a LOT of money, and so priced just about everything high.  They had many willing customers,so I guess they didn't need much of my cash.  Unlike other years, where I've spent up to $12 -- yesterday I spent a measly $2.35.  I bought . . .



I've seldom spent more than a buck for a theorem painting, but the picture was so pretty and the frame was lovely as well that I decided--what the heck--and shot the wad of $2.  I also bought a 10 cent fan and a set of shoe laces for a quarter.

I pulled out of the parking lot and headed south down the road and soon found another sign.  As it happened, the sale was next door to the home I grew up in.  Sadly, that house has not been treated well.  Weeds choked the yard.  The yard lights hung broken from the brickwork, and the brick flower boxes were in major disrepair.  I wanted to cry to see the home my Dad made so many wonderful improvements to falling apart, with even a broken window on the garage.

But I went on to the sale and bought . . .



I've got plans for these beauties.  Herbs on my kitchen counter.

I also bought a Christmas figurine.  The original price of 79 cents was written in grease pencil, crossed out,and a new price of 59 cents was written on the bottom.  I paid 25 cents for her.  She's going to join the choir of other figurines in my china cabinet.



I also bought a water bowl for my darling felines for a quarter and a square plate with Colonial figures.  (Did I mention that I collect square plates?)



So now here's the group shot. I spent a grand total of $4.35.  Not too shabby.



What was the last thing you bought at a yard sale?

Spring Flowers

Yesterday I bopped outside with camera in hand and visited my front yard, looking for stuff to take pictures of.  First up was the rhododendron right outside the front door.  It's in need of some shaping, but I'm afraid to hack at it for fear of killing it.  (As it is, the icicles took out a big chunk of the back of the plant this winter.)

But the big treat was that a huge bee was out there, dipping into the pollen.  This new camera has a telephoto lens and -- whoa!  There he was, big as life.  (And see the pollen on his butt!  Is that cute, or what?)

Next to the rhodo we have a little stand of daffodils.  They're the spring plant that keeps on giving.  They've been out for over a week, and we've had a couple of really hot (Wonderful!) days, but they're still pert and perky.  (I have to learn which setting gives me a sharper background.  Hey, it's only been a couple of weeks--give me time, give me time!

We didn't plant the tulips out front -- and usually we have only one straggly bloom, but this year we had more--go figure!  (And I'm certainly not complaining.)  Sadly, tulips seem to last a day or two (especially if it's hot).  As you can see, they're already getting a little brown around the edges, and they'd only been open a day.
Of course, while spring is great for flowers, it's also great for weeds.  Why do they look so pretty when they flower--and so ugly when they turn into puff balls of seeds a day or two later?

The former owners told us they had a row of ornamental cherry trees along the side of the driveway, but the ice storm of 1991 took out all but one.  It's the oddest looking tree because it's tall with very short (they all broke in the storm) limbs.  Most of the year it looks like it needs to be put out of its misery.  But for a couple of golden (or should I say platinum) days in the spring, it flowers and almost looks pretty.  (Well, it does look pretty close up.)

I stopped using my SLR camera about ten years ago and almost exclusively used a point-and-shoot.  And when we got our first digital cameras, they, too, were point-and-shoot.  I love my "big-girl" camera and realize how much I missed taking really good pictures. 

A No Construction Zone!

The other day, I looked out the bathroom window and noticed a robin sitting on the roof, looking around.  It jumped to the ground, looked around some more, and then jumped onto the faux craftsman lamp we have next to our front door.  It then flew back to the roof, back to the driveway, and then back to the lamp, obviously satisfied with itself.

"There's a bird out here thinking about building a nest," I told Mr. Ivy.

Nothing happened and we forgot about it.

Until this morning.  Mr. Ivy went to get the morning paper and, HELLO!, there was a fully built nest.  It wasn't there last evening.  After breakfast, Mr. Ivy went out and removed the next.  (He didn't tell me this, of course.)  Three hours later, I went out to put a letter in the mailbox.  HELLO!  There were all kinds of dead grass and sticks up on the light again.

Thinking it might be filled with bird cooties, I took off my shoe and knocked the nest down, and went back inside.  "Mr. Ivy!" I called, rather annoyed.  "I thought you were going to remove that nest."

"I did."

"Oh, yeah!"

"Yeah!"

He came out and was astounded at how much work this robin had accomplished in just under three hours.  By the end of the day, I'm sure there would've been several eggs in that nest.  In order to discourage the bird, we put a heavy piece of broken patio block up there.  (You can never find a rock when you need one.)

Mrs. Robin was quite upset, as would any mother-to-be, but we didn't want to lose the use of the light, and the nest would've been a fire hazard, not to mention the bird poop that we would've had to scrub off the house and step (we've been there, done that).

Yes, it was all for the best.  So why do I feel so mean?

Look out! DUCK!

We bought our wonderful house despite the fact it came with an in-ground pool.  We'd looked at scores of houses (and I'm not kidding--more than 80, I kept track), but this was the only one that "spoke" to us.  Mind you, it was a compromise for me.  I'd always envisioned living in an old farm house, or maybe a Victorian.  This is a contemporary ranch, which I've spent the last 14 years trying to countrify.

And then there's that in-ground pool.  Once the snow melts, I nag until Mr. Ivy pumps the top of the pool cover off.  This year he was on top of it before I could say a word.  ("Good dog, Ubu!")  Then nature conspired against us and it has rained enough for us to consider building an Ark.

I suppose we could pump it thing off in the rain, I mean, I don't understand how the submersible pump works.  I was always taught electricity and water don't mix. Mr. Ivy usually waits for a nice, dry, warm day to do it.  It had better be nice today, because yesterday we had our first (and I hope only) visit from Mr. and Mrs. Duck.
Our neighbor to the south encourages ducks to swim on her pool cover.  She thinks it's cute.  It is not cute when our fowl friends leave their calling cards in the form of excrement.  What are these birds eating?  Steers?

Right now the pool has at least six inches of water on it.  That's just fine for wading say Mr. and Mrs. Duck.  I can see The Money Pit out my office window and ripples in the usually still water alerted me to their presence.  It's annoying to find one or more of the cats watching our little ducky visitors and not say a word to us.  ("Meow" would suffice.)

When I see ducks, I dash out yelling and clapping my hands, letting the know they are not welcome.  They flap their wings and take off, using language that would curdle milk as they tell us just what inhospitable hosts we are.
But the biggest reason to discourage ducks, besides their calling cards, is the potential for duck deaths.  On two occasions we've had Mama Duck decide our pool would be a fine place to bring up her babies.  The first time this happened Frank was alone, trying to deal with ducklings who could swim faster than he could catch them.  There were eight fatalities that day.

I was angry and upset he hadn't been able to save any of the ducklings.  And then it happened to me.
I found you can easily get Mama duck out of the pool, she flaps her wings and goes airborne.  The babies aren't so lucky.  The water is about 6 inches from the concrete deck which may as well be a mile to a baby duck.  While you try to scoop up the ducklings, Mama is on the shore screaming instructions to "stay away from those humans at all costs!"  So you try like mad to fish them out and they swim away, dive underwater, laughing at you the whole time.  This can go on for hours.

Then they start to get tired AND suffer from hypothermia.

Working together, we were able to save three of eight.  Those three were more dead than alive by the time we got them out of the pool.  They laid on the grass for an hour or more before they revived enough for Mama to lead them away.  Meanwhile, five of their siblings lay on the garden compost.  There are few more heartbreaking sights.

So while it sounds mean that we discourage the ducks in the spring, there's method to our madness.  Still, as long as ducks have bird brains, I'm sure we'll have to deal with the situation again.