Shoulda been Monday Rambles, but you know how that goes sometimes.
Thank you all so very much for the kind notes and thoughts and encouragement and inspiration you've been sending over the cancer recurrence. You have made me smile so many times over the past few days and I appreciate that so very much.
Here's the latest update/wrinkle in the saga: I am not starting treatment today after all. There's been a hang up with getting insurance approval for the treatments, so I have been pushed back to next Tuesday. As in November 4. As in my 50th birthday. I intend to make everyone at the cancer center sing for me. Only in my life.....
I'll be posting updates about the whole treatment process here and on Facebook. I will probably do Facebook first and in the moment and follow up with a longer post here the day after. If you want to follow me on Facebook to get the fastest updates, you're more than welcome to.
Let's change the subject, okay? How about some junk news?
I've gotten behind in my junking updates and sale tales lately with everything else going on. Fortunately, I've also gotten behind in stocking lately. I've had a hard time keeping up. The Peddlers Mall finally got the sign put up so the world knows that we are open during construction. Overall, the mall is still slow, but my sales have picked back up to summer levels, so I am really happy. I have sold out of nearly all my Halloween stuff and can hardly wait to hit the clearance sales this weekend.
The second store remains problematic at the moment. Part of the problem is me. I still haven't worked a regular visit over there into my regular schedule, so there's no stocking and cleaning pattern going on. Here lately, with everything else happening, I've been more irregular than normal. I know this is part of the problem, because I spent Saturday and Sunday over there, and every day since has been really good sales-wise. With the treatment coming, I may have an even harder time than normal working them into my schedule, but I am sure going to try really hard.
Another thing that's going to help that store out is that I am moving to a double spot in November. Right now, I have two spaces that are not together, so having a double will give me more continuous space to work with and stage. It's also several aisles closer to the store entrance, which will probably make a difference in a store that large. I'm planning on keeping one of the single spaces through the holidays and turning it into a Christmas booth, as I have a TON of Christmas stuff this year.
One of the good things about the treatment delay is that it will give me a chance to do this booth move before it starts.
Back to the finds. I think what I am going to do is do a bunch of short posts of things as I come across them. I've really had a good junking run lately. There are now several vendors at both stores who do storage buy-outs and they have tons and tons of interesting items at rock bottom prices. I pick up a few things every time I come in.
I am trying to lay in a good stock, just in case the treatment goes roughly. I am going to price it all, so that all I have to do is pull and box and put things out. Or I can send Keith to do it, if need be. I've got a lot to do, but I think being prepared for what may come is a good thing.
Before I sign off, let me share one little junking story from the weekend. I was at an American Legion hall for their annual sale, which was being run by a group of older women. We all know how great the old lady sales are, don't we? I did find some good stuff, but this is about one of the things I did not buy.
I found this tin music box on the very last table in this very large hall. It was shaped like a barn and had a little car that was supposed to drive around the shed as it played. I tried to turn the crank for the music box, but it wouldn't budge. Like a lot of old music boxes you find, it was completely stripped out, so I put it down and walked on.
I got across the hall and, all of a sudden, it started playing! Not a song, but just notes. Intermittent notes with long pauses in between. DING! (pause of at least a minute) DING! (another long pause) DING! It would not stop! I was in there for at least another 20 minutes, and it just kept dinging and pausing! Since the room was so big, I didn't think anyone would notice, but the ladies at the other end of the room started going bonkers trying to figure out what was going on!
DING!
"There it goes again."
"Sounds like a bell."
"Did we have anything that plays music here?"
"No. Well, there was that one thing, but we sold it already."
"Did it stop?"
DING!
"I heard it!"
"What is it?"
"Where is it?"
"Is it in here or outside?"
"I heard it!"
DING!
"Maybe it's an ice cream truck."
It did not help matters that someone's car alarm started going off in the parking lot in the middle of all this. That caused much consternation, especially when the alarm stopped and the dinging didn't.
"I tell you it's in here!"
"Well, I'm going to find it."
"Check every table!"
"I will!"
DING!
One of the women set off on her hunt, and I gathered my things and checked out. I could have told them what it was, but why spoil their fun? They were certainly going to have a story to tell after the sale. I wonder if they ever found it?
Showing posts with label true tales. Show all posts
Showing posts with label true tales. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Weekend Finds
Welcome back to the internet's worst junk blogging finds rundown. You know the drill: pics on the fly, no staging, crappy lighting, etc. I forgot to get pics of the stuff I left across the river on Saturday, so many of the interesting things from the Mazda shot are not even here. Sorry about that. I had a lot of smalls, so I only included the ones that I thought were interesting or blog-worthy. A couple of things I saved for future posts, because some things just deserve it. A good day junking should keep on giving, as far as the blog posts go!
Saturday was one of those odd days where the peak came at the very first sales and then everything else was downhill from there. Whenever that happens, there's a weird vibe that results. I almost lose the thrill of the hunt as soon as we finish that first sale. It becomes a struggle to keep going. Add into this my stress over booth sales and situations, and I was having a really hard time keeping the momentum up. Nevertheless, I persevered! Shop on, I say!
So what was that first sale that was so very freaking awesome? Why, the one put on by my very own neighborhood association! They rent out spaces in a vacant lot not too far from the house and wonderment ensues! It's always a good sale and there are bargains galore! I made three trips back to the car before I finished the first row of booths. I look forward to this one every year. It's the sale that sets off the home stretch of fall sales for the year. There are one or two other awesome mega sales coming and then the season will be over. Sigh!
I had intended to set up at this sale this year, but starting the new booth kind of torpedoed those plans. I'm starting to realize that I might not get another personal yard sale in this fall either. Well, there's always next year, I guess!
Many of the large things in the Mazda shot came from this sale, including the orange top tables and the blue wicker bar stool. They're all set up at the new booth.
Back to the yard sales. After making like a jillion trips through the neighborhood lot sale, we set off to tackle my list. Next stop was one that included this tantalizing phrase in their ad: "vintage(?) comic books." You know I was there! I walked off with the whole lot after this little dialogue:
Seller: Comics are a dollar each or three for two dollars.
Me: How much for the lot?
Seller: Count them up.
Me: There's about 16 dollars worth in this stack. (I counted by threes.) The other stack is about the same size. Could I get them both for $20?
Seller: Can't do that. I'd do $25.
Me: SOLD!
That is how negotiations should work, my friends. Bulk Buy Offer. Counter-Offer. Boom!
After that, it was hit or miss. The next few sales yielded little to nothing. The peak had been reached. It was 9:30, and we were heading downhill quickly. And there were too many choices and uncertainties. Do I go with neighborhood sales that might waste time? Or drive way out of my usual way for sales that might or might not be good? I had a real battle with indecision going on.
In the end, I targeted a large adoption fundraiser sale and a small street sale as definite stops. The adoption sale yielded a cheap Ikea end table and some smalls. You can see the Ikea table in the Mazda shot post. It stayed at the new booth, too. Leaving it we saw a sign for a sale that I had considered going to, but thought it was too far away. We followed the signs and found two sales. I piled up so many cool things at one of the sales that the seller stopped totaling me up at 20 bucks and just threw the last four of five things in. Love it when that happens!
One of the things I got there was a very large stuffed Hulk figure. A woman asked me what I was going to do with it. Her daughter looked at her and said: "I would throw it at people on Halloween." Seems like a good idea to me. Watch out on October 31!
Across the street, I bought a really odd (for me) item--a weight bench. It's just one of those plain ones that you lay on and hope you don't end up dropping something very heavy on your throat. It's totally not me, but it is something I can place other things on it for a display. It also has no moving parts, so customers won't be tempted to do stupid things in public on it. And it was only a dollar. Okay, so that last bit may have influenced me more than a little bit.
On way out of this neighborhood, we stumbled across a fundraiser sale for a Doberman rescue group. I got a huge pile of enamelware dishes there (most with lids). Happy dance! The last sale was a vintage junkie kicking the habit. I got some nice things there, but there were a couple more things I wanted (chalkware Madonnas!) and she wasn't budging on the prices.
We rounded out the day trying to pick up a free sofa from a work friend, only to find out that our wondrous Mazda does indeed have a limit. Just wasn't going to work. I ended up putting it on Craigslist for her and hauling it to the end of her driveway. It's gone now!
Oops! I am out of things to say. Photo parade from here on out!
Linking up with: Thriftasaurus!
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| Small brown tables with retro desk lamps |
Saturday was one of those odd days where the peak came at the very first sales and then everything else was downhill from there. Whenever that happens, there's a weird vibe that results. I almost lose the thrill of the hunt as soon as we finish that first sale. It becomes a struggle to keep going. Add into this my stress over booth sales and situations, and I was having a really hard time keeping the momentum up. Nevertheless, I persevered! Shop on, I say!
So what was that first sale that was so very freaking awesome? Why, the one put on by my very own neighborhood association! They rent out spaces in a vacant lot not too far from the house and wonderment ensues! It's always a good sale and there are bargains galore! I made three trips back to the car before I finished the first row of booths. I look forward to this one every year. It's the sale that sets off the home stretch of fall sales for the year. There are one or two other awesome mega sales coming and then the season will be over. Sigh!
 |
| Painted shadow box |
Many of the large things in the Mazda shot came from this sale, including the orange top tables and the blue wicker bar stool. They're all set up at the new booth.
Back to the yard sales. After making like a jillion trips through the neighborhood lot sale, we set off to tackle my list. Next stop was one that included this tantalizing phrase in their ad: "vintage(?) comic books." You know I was there! I walked off with the whole lot after this little dialogue:
 |
| SCORE! Good stuff in here and I got to take the tub too! |
Me: How much for the lot?
Seller: Count them up.
Me: There's about 16 dollars worth in this stack. (I counted by threes.) The other stack is about the same size. Could I get them both for $20?
Seller: Can't do that. I'd do $25.
Me: SOLD!
That is how negotiations should work, my friends. Bulk Buy Offer. Counter-Offer. Boom!
 |
| Tin picnic basket. Repro? |
After that, it was hit or miss. The next few sales yielded little to nothing. The peak had been reached. It was 9:30, and we were heading downhill quickly. And there were too many choices and uncertainties. Do I go with neighborhood sales that might waste time? Or drive way out of my usual way for sales that might or might not be good? I had a real battle with indecision going on.
In the end, I targeted a large adoption fundraiser sale and a small street sale as definite stops. The adoption sale yielded a cheap Ikea end table and some smalls. You can see the Ikea table in the Mazda shot post. It stayed at the new booth, too. Leaving it we saw a sign for a sale that I had considered going to, but thought it was too far away. We followed the signs and found two sales. I piled up so many cool things at one of the sales that the seller stopped totaling me up at 20 bucks and just threw the last four of five things in. Love it when that happens!
 |
| Hulk like Elmo! |
Across the street, I bought a really odd (for me) item--a weight bench. It's just one of those plain ones that you lay on and hope you don't end up dropping something very heavy on your throat. It's totally not me, but it is something I can place other things on it for a display. It also has no moving parts, so customers won't be tempted to do stupid things in public on it. And it was only a dollar. Okay, so that last bit may have influenced me more than a little bit.
On way out of this neighborhood, we stumbled across a fundraiser sale for a Doberman rescue group. I got a huge pile of enamelware dishes there (most with lids). Happy dance! The last sale was a vintage junkie kicking the habit. I got some nice things there, but there were a couple more things I wanted (chalkware Madonnas!) and she wasn't budging on the prices.
 |
| Love the red one! All have lids, except the top one. |
We rounded out the day trying to pick up a free sofa from a work friend, only to find out that our wondrous Mazda does indeed have a limit. Just wasn't going to work. I ended up putting it on Craigslist for her and hauling it to the end of her driveway. It's gone now!
Oops! I am out of things to say. Photo parade from here on out!
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| Betty Boop Witch |
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| Love the old hymnals! |
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| Palm Tree Candle Holders |
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| Crafty filled light bulbs |
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| Awesome Oreo tin |
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| Sweet vintage Madonna |
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| Bar stools are quick sellers for me. |
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| Hand-painted wooden elephant/pull toy |
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| Finding Peanuts collectibles is always a plus! |
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| More Peanuts stuff and a Fisher-Price repro |
Linking up with: Thriftasaurus!
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Awesomeness!
So, I was in this woman's backyard on Saturday, looking at the stuff she had for sale. Pretty typical for me. I think she used to have some kind of crafting/scrapbooking store, since there were multiples of many of the kinds of things one would find in a store like that. Usually that kind of stuff is not my style, but there were a few things I liked, except that they were priced just a tad high for me. I was contemplating making an offer, when she says:
Never one to turn down an invite to look at more stuff, I followed her instructions, walked through the garage, and down into the basement. One of these days I'm going to do that and never be heard from again. There was a lot of stuff down there, including some vintage Christmas, but none of it was priced. I decided I just did not feel like gathering up a bunch of it, hauling up out of the basement, finding out it was too much for me, and then negotiating in the heat. It was the last stop on the list, and I already had a van full. I'm also not in a big hurt for stuff right now. Given all of that, I tend towards leaving everything for the next buyer. Maybe that makes me a bad junker. I don't know.
As I was turning to go, I saw this shelf full of Mexican terra-cotta artwork. Lots of wonderful pieces, all priced--well-priced at that! It's like it was put there just for me. I carefully emptied some other stuff out of a box, then equally carefully put the pieces in it.
When I got back upstairs with the box, she asked me what I had found. I handed the box to her and simply said:
"Awesomeness!"
"There's more in the basement, if you want to look."
Never one to turn down an invite to look at more stuff, I followed her instructions, walked through the garage, and down into the basement. One of these days I'm going to do that and never be heard from again. There was a lot of stuff down there, including some vintage Christmas, but none of it was priced. I decided I just did not feel like gathering up a bunch of it, hauling up out of the basement, finding out it was too much for me, and then negotiating in the heat. It was the last stop on the list, and I already had a van full. I'm also not in a big hurt for stuff right now. Given all of that, I tend towards leaving everything for the next buyer. Maybe that makes me a bad junker. I don't know.
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| Churches for burning incense |
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| Doves for holding candles |
When I got back upstairs with the box, she asked me what I had found. I handed the box to her and simply said:
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| This isn't all of them. There were two that would not fit. |
"Awesomeness!"
She laughed.
Then agreed with me.
And gave me a discount.
It pays to call it like it is sometimes!
I'm glad I've finally gotten in the habit of bringing paper to wrap purchases with when I go saling.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Eddie M's Finds and Stories
Eddie-tor's Note: The title of today's post is an homage to a long-running classic comic book. Anyone know what it is?
Saturday was an interesting day: Lots of sales. Lots of finds. Lots of misses. And lots of stories.
Keith broke a vase at the first sale we stopped at. I was absolutely mortified, but the seller took it in stride. He did pay for it, even though she said he didn't have to. After we left, I told him we had to review the rules: "We don't rummage around and break the people's nice things."
I was making quite a pile at this sale, too. If she had thrown us out, I would have been heartbroken!
I bought one of those Rubbermaid-like plastic storage shelves at the next sale. I always need more shelving, either in the booth or the storage room. I can never be organized enough it seems. The seller was being very dramatic about everything he sold. Big sighs and moans every time someone asked about a price: "Oh! Well, I guess that is going to be a dollar!" He did everything but put his hand to his forehead and swoon.
I went to the first sale I've ever been to run by nuns. These were plainclothes, modern nuns, not the ones in habits, which would had made it more cool. I recognized one of them from a job I had about twenty years ago. It was one of the only estate sales I've ever been at where they had items priced at ten cents. I nearly died when I got to this one. There was a huge mass of awesome vintage small furniture that had already been sold in the driveway. I checked out the prices as I went in the house. There were vintage metal patio tables marked for seventy-five cents! I died, I tell you! That whole mass of furniture cost about ten bucks all together, and there was a ton of it! I try never to dwell on items that I miss out on, but this batch made it pretty hard.
Still, I did pretty well!
Of course, there would be religious items at a nun-run sale! I love that green pitcher.
The next sale we hit, had this amazing Hoosier cabinet that had been priced at $25! Of course, it was already sold. Must...not...dwell...on it! This is where I found the mysterious metal pot.
It's heavy and solid. The sides are a couple of inches thick and the handles are big and round. It's been spray-painted gold, to boot! In other words, it is exactly the kind of thing I simply cannot pass up. I'm going to sell it as a planter, but it doesn't have any drainage. It would look nice on a porch with a fern, though. The seller said her mother owned it for years, but never knew what it was really for. Any ideas?
We hit a benefit sale for a group called the "Home Birth Coalition." I had never heard of it before, but they had good stuff. One mother there was breast-feeding her child while she was shopping. I've never seen that at a sale before. I got a bunch of stuff there.
I had to stalk a little girl of about two to get that Snoopy. She was kind of wandering along and picking up things, carrying them around for a bit, and then dropping them and picking up something else. You know, like little kids do. Her mom would sweep in behind her and put whatever she dropped back where it came from. She dug this awesome Snoopy out of a box of stuffed animals and I had to have it! Of course, she held on to it longer than anything else! I was beginning to think I was going to lose out on it, when she saw a doll and down went Snoopy! Mom swooped in and I was right behind her! Yes, I know how creepy that sounds. Yes, I would do it again. At least, I draw the line at snatching it out of her hand! I do have standards!
When we pulled up at this sale, I saw the most awesome thing I had seen all day: this vintage drafting stand/desk. I love the little storage cabinet underneath! I checked it out when we got there, but wasn't sure it would fit in the van. My routine in this situation is to buy my other items, then check out the van, ask Keith what he thinks, then go buy the large, unwieldy item.
So, when I asked Keith, whose words of wisdom I value greatly, he lays this on me: "You already decided to get it as soon as you saw it. It doesn't really matter what I have to say." I'm still deciding whether I'm shocked, hurt, tickled or amazed by this observation. We had to take several things out and repack the van, but it went in! You can kind of see how we had to work it in in the Mazda pic. it was a bit of a struggle, but it was totally worth it!
At the very next sale, I was welcomed by a couple sitting on a couch on the porch. "Let us know when you're ready and we'll get off your couch." My kind of people! I didn't get the couch, but I did buy some Bybee pottery for a price that was so good, I had to ask if it was correct. Then I saw this:
And I turned to the couple on the couch and said: "That's not my couch, but that is my table!" For the first time ever, I had to pay for an item and leave it. It just would not go in the van with the drafting table. I'm wondering if this is a trend for the future.
There was one more stop, where I made a great purchase, but that is a story for tomorrow. I guess that's my sneaky way of drawing you back here tomorrow! See you!
Saturday was an interesting day: Lots of sales. Lots of finds. Lots of misses. And lots of stories.
Keith broke a vase at the first sale we stopped at. I was absolutely mortified, but the seller took it in stride. He did pay for it, even though she said he didn't have to. After we left, I told him we had to review the rules: "We don't rummage around and break the people's nice things."
I was making quite a pile at this sale, too. If she had thrown us out, I would have been heartbroken!
 | |
| Collapsible IKEA storage boxes--NIP! |
I bought one of those Rubbermaid-like plastic storage shelves at the next sale. I always need more shelving, either in the booth or the storage room. I can never be organized enough it seems. The seller was being very dramatic about everything he sold. Big sighs and moans every time someone asked about a price: "Oh! Well, I guess that is going to be a dollar!" He did everything but put his hand to his forehead and swoon.
I went to the first sale I've ever been to run by nuns. These were plainclothes, modern nuns, not the ones in habits, which would had made it more cool. I recognized one of them from a job I had about twenty years ago. It was one of the only estate sales I've ever been at where they had items priced at ten cents. I nearly died when I got to this one. There was a huge mass of awesome vintage small furniture that had already been sold in the driveway. I checked out the prices as I went in the house. There were vintage metal patio tables marked for seventy-five cents! I died, I tell you! That whole mass of furniture cost about ten bucks all together, and there was a ton of it! I try never to dwell on items that I miss out on, but this batch made it pretty hard.
Still, I did pretty well!
 |
| Horrible pic, I know. |
The next sale we hit, had this amazing Hoosier cabinet that had been priced at $25! Of course, it was already sold. Must...not...dwell...on it! This is where I found the mysterious metal pot.
It's heavy and solid. The sides are a couple of inches thick and the handles are big and round. It's been spray-painted gold, to boot! In other words, it is exactly the kind of thing I simply cannot pass up. I'm going to sell it as a planter, but it doesn't have any drainage. It would look nice on a porch with a fern, though. The seller said her mother owned it for years, but never knew what it was really for. Any ideas?
 |
| Nancy Drew, Plastic Buddhas, and Itty Bitty Heath Ledger Joker! |
We hit a benefit sale for a group called the "Home Birth Coalition." I had never heard of it before, but they had good stuff. One mother there was breast-feeding her child while she was shopping. I've never seen that at a sale before. I got a bunch of stuff there.
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| I don't do a lot of stuffed toys, but I do a lot of character toys! |
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| Yes, I know my booth is a white hot mess! |
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| White! Hot! MESS! |
So, when I asked Keith, whose words of wisdom I value greatly, he lays this on me: "You already decided to get it as soon as you saw it. It doesn't really matter what I have to say." I'm still deciding whether I'm shocked, hurt, tickled or amazed by this observation. We had to take several things out and repack the van, but it went in! You can kind of see how we had to work it in in the Mazda pic. it was a bit of a struggle, but it was totally worth it!
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| I (heart) Bybee! |
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| You can kind of see it around the white hot mess. |
There was one more stop, where I made a great purchase, but that is a story for tomorrow. I guess that's my sneaky way of drawing you back here tomorrow! See you!
Monday, July 28, 2014
Monday Rambles
I'm a bit behind on just about everything this week, since I'm still adjusting to last week's schedule change. I feel like I didn't get anything done last week! The older I get, the harder time I have changing routines. Even though I was only on summer schedule for a month and a half, that was enough for me to get out of the groove, especially with evening work. Hopefully, I can get things pulled together this week.
I'm about to wrap up another really good month at the Peddlers Mall! I met last month's total yesterday. Since that was a record total, that means that this month is going to be a new record, even if I only sell a few dollars each day this week. Despite all of this, August makes me nervous. It's typically a lower sales month, since school starts and the State Fair (which takes place in Louisville) runs for two weeks in the middle of the month. We'll just see, I guess. Nothing to do but forge ahead and keep working.
Yard sales were very good this weekend. We started off in our neighborhood, following some signs I had seen on Friday night. Some lead to fun finds and good stories. Others, well, there's a reason I call them Deliverance yard sales.
The first sale we hit was being run by these three older ladies who had the most fascinating stories about every item they had. When one of them told me that the metal statue of Our Lady of Lourdes came from France. "where I lived as a young lady," I told her that she seems to have had the most fascinating life. They all laughed and then said that there wasn't enough time for them to tell even half of it.
Right around the corner, was a moving sale with awesome prices and vintage treasures. I found something there that I have been hunting a long time. (You'll have to wait until Wednesday to see it.) We had paid for our stuff and were loading the van, when this older man came out of the house, causing Keith to do a double take. Turns out the sale was being run by this man he's known for years! We'd seen him around the neighborhood from time to time, but I didn't know that we lived so close to each other.
Then we went to a sale in an alley where all the furniture was supposed to be five dollars. That's because it was all curb finds. Not the good kind of curb finds mind you, but crap that was put on the curb because it was crap. I told Keith I wasn't going to pay five dollars for something that big and heavy and ugly that I would be lucky to get ten dollars for when I sell it. A lot of things at this sale had booth tags on them. It was a failed booth yard sale. I've seen a lot of them and most of them aren't very pretty.
We also hit a church sale where the cashier couldn't add or subtract. I told Keith that person must have been the only one to volunteer for the job. We walked into one social club sale where they announced that "most things" were now one half off. The "most things" didn't seem to include anything I was picking up, however. The person running the sale was saying one thing and they cashiers were saying something different, so I started putting things back and very politely saying "No thank you." All of a sudden, confronted with the fact that I wasn't going to buy these things, they became half price items!
So what was in Mazda? Well, here's the big stuff:
I love stuff like old office trash cans, because they have such a utilitarian look. You can see some of the smalls peeking out of the can, but you'll have to wait until tomorrow to see them.
In the meantime, do yourself a favor and pop over to Roger's blog and read the amazing acrostics she did as part of her homework. She's obviously got a creative bent and is developing a fun sense of humor. I think you'll enjoy them. Roger, you should be very proud her (which I know you are). She's pretty special.
I'm about to wrap up another really good month at the Peddlers Mall! I met last month's total yesterday. Since that was a record total, that means that this month is going to be a new record, even if I only sell a few dollars each day this week. Despite all of this, August makes me nervous. It's typically a lower sales month, since school starts and the State Fair (which takes place in Louisville) runs for two weeks in the middle of the month. We'll just see, I guess. Nothing to do but forge ahead and keep working.
Yard sales were very good this weekend. We started off in our neighborhood, following some signs I had seen on Friday night. Some lead to fun finds and good stories. Others, well, there's a reason I call them Deliverance yard sales.
The first sale we hit was being run by these three older ladies who had the most fascinating stories about every item they had. When one of them told me that the metal statue of Our Lady of Lourdes came from France. "where I lived as a young lady," I told her that she seems to have had the most fascinating life. They all laughed and then said that there wasn't enough time for them to tell even half of it.
Right around the corner, was a moving sale with awesome prices and vintage treasures. I found something there that I have been hunting a long time. (You'll have to wait until Wednesday to see it.) We had paid for our stuff and were loading the van, when this older man came out of the house, causing Keith to do a double take. Turns out the sale was being run by this man he's known for years! We'd seen him around the neighborhood from time to time, but I didn't know that we lived so close to each other.
Then we went to a sale in an alley where all the furniture was supposed to be five dollars. That's because it was all curb finds. Not the good kind of curb finds mind you, but crap that was put on the curb because it was crap. I told Keith I wasn't going to pay five dollars for something that big and heavy and ugly that I would be lucky to get ten dollars for when I sell it. A lot of things at this sale had booth tags on them. It was a failed booth yard sale. I've seen a lot of them and most of them aren't very pretty.
We also hit a church sale where the cashier couldn't add or subtract. I told Keith that person must have been the only one to volunteer for the job. We walked into one social club sale where they announced that "most things" were now one half off. The "most things" didn't seem to include anything I was picking up, however. The person running the sale was saying one thing and they cashiers were saying something different, so I started putting things back and very politely saying "No thank you." All of a sudden, confronted with the fact that I wasn't going to buy these things, they became half price items!
So what was in Mazda? Well, here's the big stuff:
 |
| Vintage child's rocker with cushions |
 |
| Two green stools |
 |
| Triangular end table |
 |
| Handmade stool |
 |
| Painted trunk/chest |
 |
| Vintage metal trash can |
In the meantime, do yourself a favor and pop over to Roger's blog and read the amazing acrostics she did as part of her homework. She's obviously got a creative bent and is developing a fun sense of humor. I think you'll enjoy them. Roger, you should be very proud her (which I know you are). She's pretty special.
Tuesday, July 08, 2014
Tales from the Pavement (Addendum)
For some reason, I left off my favorite story from the last Peddlers Mall sidewalk sale in my Tales from the Pavement post. That's what happens when you don't take notes or at least make a list before starting a blog. Oddly enough, it just kind of occurred to me the other night, just as I was falling asleep, that I had forgotten to include that story. Seriously. Just like that. Out of the blue. Several days after the post was published.
Sometimes, I think I'm just plain weird.
Anyway, since the story really does exemplify some truths about the junking business, it really needs to be told. Since I'm going way more low key this time around for the sidewalk sale, I may not have too many tales to share next week. So enjoy this late addition, just in case I end up having a boring run on Saturday.
I had this really ugly, beat-up microwave cart in my stuff at the sale. I hated the thing. It's the kind of thing I would never buy on my own and certainly not the kind of merchandise I want to have associated with my booth. The only reason I had it was because it was kind of forced upon me by my uncle when I was buying leftover stock from him. He had been using it to stack stuff on and didn't need it any more. It doesn't have to be pretty when you're just stacking stuff on it. It just has to be sturdy, and it certainly was that.
So he starts off trying to sell it to me for 2 bucks, and I pass. Then it becomes "free, if you want it." Still, I pass. Then it becomes, "Here, I'll carry this to the car for you." What could I do? He was determined to get rid of the thing and I was stuck with it.
I had marked it for a couple bucks and put it in the booth. There it sat. Out of place and in the way. Unwanted. Since it was still usable, I could not bring myself to throw it away. That violates my own personal junker code. I could have donated it, but I had kind of mixed feelings about that, since my uncle had given it to me. So I was stuck.
I hauled it down to the sidewalk sale, along with some other dud furniture, and priced it at a buck. I didn't have high hopes, but in the middle of the afternoon, a woman looked at it and yelled at me. She was asking if the price was correct. I told her it was and she got really excited. I mean really excited.
Her daughter needed a TV stand, and she was trying to help her out. She needed something cheap, but was having a hard time hitting yard sales because of her work hours. By the time she gets off on Saturday, they're mostly over. She carried on about that ugly microwave cart like it was some kind of antique treasure.
I was just happy the damn thing was gone. And I even got a dollar for it. Hell, I would have paid her the dollar to take it!
Sometimes, it really is true that one man's trash is someone else's treasure.
Sometimes, I think I'm just plain weird.
Anyway, since the story really does exemplify some truths about the junking business, it really needs to be told. Since I'm going way more low key this time around for the sidewalk sale, I may not have too many tales to share next week. So enjoy this late addition, just in case I end up having a boring run on Saturday.
I had this really ugly, beat-up microwave cart in my stuff at the sale. I hated the thing. It's the kind of thing I would never buy on my own and certainly not the kind of merchandise I want to have associated with my booth. The only reason I had it was because it was kind of forced upon me by my uncle when I was buying leftover stock from him. He had been using it to stack stuff on and didn't need it any more. It doesn't have to be pretty when you're just stacking stuff on it. It just has to be sturdy, and it certainly was that.
So he starts off trying to sell it to me for 2 bucks, and I pass. Then it becomes "free, if you want it." Still, I pass. Then it becomes, "Here, I'll carry this to the car for you." What could I do? He was determined to get rid of the thing and I was stuck with it.
I had marked it for a couple bucks and put it in the booth. There it sat. Out of place and in the way. Unwanted. Since it was still usable, I could not bring myself to throw it away. That violates my own personal junker code. I could have donated it, but I had kind of mixed feelings about that, since my uncle had given it to me. So I was stuck.
I hauled it down to the sidewalk sale, along with some other dud furniture, and priced it at a buck. I didn't have high hopes, but in the middle of the afternoon, a woman looked at it and yelled at me. She was asking if the price was correct. I told her it was and she got really excited. I mean really excited.
Her daughter needed a TV stand, and she was trying to help her out. She needed something cheap, but was having a hard time hitting yard sales because of her work hours. By the time she gets off on Saturday, they're mostly over. She carried on about that ugly microwave cart like it was some kind of antique treasure.
I was just happy the damn thing was gone. And I even got a dollar for it. Hell, I would have paid her the dollar to take it!
Sometimes, it really is true that one man's trash is someone else's treasure.
Sunday, June 29, 2014
Tales from the Pavement
As last week's sidewalk sale fades into happy memory and preparations start for the next one (July 12 if anyone happens to be in the area), the time has come to share the stories from the sale. Anything that involves people, money, and bargains will inevitably create stories. Stories, by their very nature, were meant to be shared, so pull up a seat, grab your favorite beverage and read along, as I recount these "Tales from the Pavement" for June 21, 2014. (A sidewalk is a pavement. Get it?) I'll be telling these Clamco style, with headers and dividers.
I know that every good tale is enhanced by pictures, but I was so busy all day long that I had no chance to take any. It's hard to run the whole show by yourself and photo document everything all at the same time.
IF YOU HAD A HAT LIKE THAT ON
Very early on, I had an attempted shoplifting--of a very ugly straw hat. A hat so tacky that I had not even priced it. I would not even let it sit on the tables with the other goods. It was that bad. I laid it underneath one of the tables, intending to move it up to the top if something else sold and made room for it.
I was helping a couple of ladies when another woman came along, scooped up the hat, put it on, and started walking off with it. I didn't even notice, but one of the ladies I was helping did. She started yelling. "You better get over here and pay that man for his hat!" She was really loud, to boot.
Since she'd been caught, the woman kind of sheepishly sidled over to me and gave me fifty cents, which was honestly 25 cents more than I would have charged for the ugly thing. Seriously, that's what you want to steal?
SO THAT'S WHAT IT IS
Another woman and her daughter were going through a stack of enamelware pot lids. She ended up buying all I had, but when she got to one that was in really rough shape, her daughter said: "Mama. That one's all beat up!" Her reply? "Baby, that's what makes it primitive!"
ALONG FOR THE RIDE
There was this older couple who kept coming back to my tables over and over again. She'd pick up a couple of items, and we would negotiate a price. She'd pay me, then hand them to him, and he would start walking off to the car to put them away. After about the fourth or fifth round of this, he looked at me and said: "She's in charge. I'm just along for the ride." I could tell they had been following that same routine for many years together.
OF COURSE THERE WERE KIDS
By now, you should know what a kick I get out of kids at sales. (Well, not the ones that make messes and break things, but we didn't have any of those this time around.) This little boy and his mom picked up a toy off the table that was marked a dollar. They talked back and forth for a minute, then he came and asked me, with a very serious look on his face, if I would take 90 cents for it. I don't know if that was all the money he had or if that was all he could get from his mother, but it kind of tickled me a little. I mean he was so serious about it! Then he opens his palm and shows me his 90 cents. I took two quarters out of his hand and told him I would make him a really good deal on it.
SOMETIMES I AM NOT A GOOD PERSON
I got one of those types through in the afternoon. You know. Someone who is always right about everything and knows everything and is going to tell everyone all about it. For the most part, I ignored him. He kept passing through my area, but showing no interest in anything other than himself and his own opinions about stuff. How he'd do this. How he'd do that. Blah. Blah. Blah. (by the way, he'd never just sit around on a Saturday trying to sell stuff. He said so.)
Finally, he picked up an item out of a box that was marked "$2 for all" and offered me $3 for it.
I took the three dollars without a word. Who am I to correct someone who knows how everything is supposed to be?
Plus, it made him go away!
I can be evil when you annoy me too much.
I know that every good tale is enhanced by pictures, but I was so busy all day long that I had no chance to take any. It's hard to run the whole show by yourself and photo document everything all at the same time.
IF YOU HAD A HAT LIKE THAT ON
Very early on, I had an attempted shoplifting--of a very ugly straw hat. A hat so tacky that I had not even priced it. I would not even let it sit on the tables with the other goods. It was that bad. I laid it underneath one of the tables, intending to move it up to the top if something else sold and made room for it.
I was helping a couple of ladies when another woman came along, scooped up the hat, put it on, and started walking off with it. I didn't even notice, but one of the ladies I was helping did. She started yelling. "You better get over here and pay that man for his hat!" She was really loud, to boot.
Since she'd been caught, the woman kind of sheepishly sidled over to me and gave me fifty cents, which was honestly 25 cents more than I would have charged for the ugly thing. Seriously, that's what you want to steal?
SO THAT'S WHAT IT IS
Another woman and her daughter were going through a stack of enamelware pot lids. She ended up buying all I had, but when she got to one that was in really rough shape, her daughter said: "Mama. That one's all beat up!" Her reply? "Baby, that's what makes it primitive!"
ALONG FOR THE RIDE
There was this older couple who kept coming back to my tables over and over again. She'd pick up a couple of items, and we would negotiate a price. She'd pay me, then hand them to him, and he would start walking off to the car to put them away. After about the fourth or fifth round of this, he looked at me and said: "She's in charge. I'm just along for the ride." I could tell they had been following that same routine for many years together.
OF COURSE THERE WERE KIDS
By now, you should know what a kick I get out of kids at sales. (Well, not the ones that make messes and break things, but we didn't have any of those this time around.) This little boy and his mom picked up a toy off the table that was marked a dollar. They talked back and forth for a minute, then he came and asked me, with a very serious look on his face, if I would take 90 cents for it. I don't know if that was all the money he had or if that was all he could get from his mother, but it kind of tickled me a little. I mean he was so serious about it! Then he opens his palm and shows me his 90 cents. I took two quarters out of his hand and told him I would make him a really good deal on it.
SOMETIMES I AM NOT A GOOD PERSON
I got one of those types through in the afternoon. You know. Someone who is always right about everything and knows everything and is going to tell everyone all about it. For the most part, I ignored him. He kept passing through my area, but showing no interest in anything other than himself and his own opinions about stuff. How he'd do this. How he'd do that. Blah. Blah. Blah. (by the way, he'd never just sit around on a Saturday trying to sell stuff. He said so.)
Finally, he picked up an item out of a box that was marked "$2 for all" and offered me $3 for it.
I took the three dollars without a word. Who am I to correct someone who knows how everything is supposed to be?
Plus, it made him go away!
I can be evil when you annoy me too much.
Sunday, February 16, 2014
True Tales of Yard Sales: Pyx-illated!
A couple of weeks ago, we were at an estate sale (the one where I bought the dino chair), loaded with goods and ready to be checked out. I was putting my stuff on the table, and the cashier was beginning to total things up.
All of a sudden, a gentleman at the jewelry table starts making a fuss and demanding to see the person in charge of the sale. He's saying things like: "Oh no! We have to do something about this. Can't have this." Everyone else in the room was staring at him, including the cashier, who has stopped totaling my items. I have some issues with that. Don't they know I have other sales to get to?
Finally, the woman in charge comes in and he rushes over to her. Turns out he's found a pyx on the jewelry table. It's a simple thing, just a tiny, plain brass container that is used to bring communion to Catholics who are housebound. What's not so simple is the communion wafer (or Host) this dude has found inside the pyx.
If that Host was intended to be taken to someone who could not get to Mass, then it must have been consecrated. If it was consecrated, then, according to Catholic doctrine, it had become the body and blood of Christ. This is called transubstantiation, and is the central component of the Catholic Mass. Consecrated Hosts that are not used are supposed to be stored in a tabernacle in a church, not lying around in a pyx at an estate sale. If someone had bought the pyx, they would have also bought the Hosts. Selling consecrated Hosts is forbidden by church law.
The woman running the sale says that she's not Catholic and it pretty obvious that she doesn't understand what the big deal is. The guy who found it obviously is Catholic and sees it as a really big deal. I'm not Catholic either, but I do understand why he's making the fuss. Catholicism is one of my hobbies, after all. Yes, I know how weird that sounds.
I'm a little more put out at the crimp this whole scene is putting on my checking out plans than at the discovery of the Host in the pyx thing. The woman running the sale keeps saying that she doesn't know what to do about it. I can tell she would like to placate this guy, but really has no clue how to go about it. The dude keeps flustering and flummoxing around. I finally say: "Call a priest." I figure that will give them something to do besides attract the attention of everyone in the room. so I can finally finish checking out and go on my merry way.
The guy then asks if he can take the Host with him and bring it to his priest the next day at Mass. The woman in charge agrees and the moment is over. I'm assuming he found something to wrap it in for transport. Surely, he wouldn't just drop it in his pocket with his keys and lint and stuff. Not after all that fuss.
It was a good plan, since the priest would know how to properly dispose of it. My understanding is that he could have consumed it himself, provided he did it in a reverent manner. I knew this was one way to handle it, but I didn't suggest it because I was a wee bit frustrated with the whole scene. Instead of saying "You can reverently consume the Host," I probably would have said "Just eat the thing, dude." That most likely would not have helped the situation.
A few years ago, after the death of John Paul II, someone tried to sell a consecrated communion wafer from a papal ceremony on eBay. It caused quite an uproar in some circles, because the Hosts are supposed to be consumed during the Mass, not saved and taken away. The idea that a Host had been improperly stored was bad enough, but to have it sold as a collectible was kind of beyond the pale.
EBay would not intervene and pull the auction. The seller resisted calls to pull the auction down. Someone used the Buy It Now option to end the auction, intending to turn the Host over for proper disposal, but eventually a priest from the seller's local area persuaded him to end the auction and turn the Host over. I think the seller got tired of the publicity he was getting. There was talk at the time about pressuring eBay to prohibit the selling of consecrated wafers, but I don't know if it ever went anywhere. I do not recall seeing it on eBay's prohibited items list, but I could have overlooked it.
Even if it is in effect, there is probably someone who will figure out a clever way to word their listing to get around it, kind of like the way folks who sell saint's relics (which is forbidden by canon law) do: "You are bidding on the container. The relic inside is my gift to you." Yeah, right. Try selling that cheap brass box without the jawbone of St Mauritius in it and see who will give you $1500 for it.
Everything ended well at the estate sale that day. The woman in charge was off the hook. The dude's religious proprieties were restored, plus he got the satisfaction of righting what he saw as a serious wrong. I finally got checked out with my treasures. There was only one little sticking point to the whole ordeal.
I was bummed that I didn't see the pyx first.
All of a sudden, a gentleman at the jewelry table starts making a fuss and demanding to see the person in charge of the sale. He's saying things like: "Oh no! We have to do something about this. Can't have this." Everyone else in the room was staring at him, including the cashier, who has stopped totaling my items. I have some issues with that. Don't they know I have other sales to get to?
Finally, the woman in charge comes in and he rushes over to her. Turns out he's found a pyx on the jewelry table. It's a simple thing, just a tiny, plain brass container that is used to bring communion to Catholics who are housebound. What's not so simple is the communion wafer (or Host) this dude has found inside the pyx.
If that Host was intended to be taken to someone who could not get to Mass, then it must have been consecrated. If it was consecrated, then, according to Catholic doctrine, it had become the body and blood of Christ. This is called transubstantiation, and is the central component of the Catholic Mass. Consecrated Hosts that are not used are supposed to be stored in a tabernacle in a church, not lying around in a pyx at an estate sale. If someone had bought the pyx, they would have also bought the Hosts. Selling consecrated Hosts is forbidden by church law.
The woman running the sale says that she's not Catholic and it pretty obvious that she doesn't understand what the big deal is. The guy who found it obviously is Catholic and sees it as a really big deal. I'm not Catholic either, but I do understand why he's making the fuss. Catholicism is one of my hobbies, after all. Yes, I know how weird that sounds.
I'm a little more put out at the crimp this whole scene is putting on my checking out plans than at the discovery of the Host in the pyx thing. The woman running the sale keeps saying that she doesn't know what to do about it. I can tell she would like to placate this guy, but really has no clue how to go about it. The dude keeps flustering and flummoxing around. I finally say: "Call a priest." I figure that will give them something to do besides attract the attention of everyone in the room. so I can finally finish checking out and go on my merry way.
The guy then asks if he can take the Host with him and bring it to his priest the next day at Mass. The woman in charge agrees and the moment is over. I'm assuming he found something to wrap it in for transport. Surely, he wouldn't just drop it in his pocket with his keys and lint and stuff. Not after all that fuss.
It was a good plan, since the priest would know how to properly dispose of it. My understanding is that he could have consumed it himself, provided he did it in a reverent manner. I knew this was one way to handle it, but I didn't suggest it because I was a wee bit frustrated with the whole scene. Instead of saying "You can reverently consume the Host," I probably would have said "Just eat the thing, dude." That most likely would not have helped the situation.
A few years ago, after the death of John Paul II, someone tried to sell a consecrated communion wafer from a papal ceremony on eBay. It caused quite an uproar in some circles, because the Hosts are supposed to be consumed during the Mass, not saved and taken away. The idea that a Host had been improperly stored was bad enough, but to have it sold as a collectible was kind of beyond the pale.
EBay would not intervene and pull the auction. The seller resisted calls to pull the auction down. Someone used the Buy It Now option to end the auction, intending to turn the Host over for proper disposal, but eventually a priest from the seller's local area persuaded him to end the auction and turn the Host over. I think the seller got tired of the publicity he was getting. There was talk at the time about pressuring eBay to prohibit the selling of consecrated wafers, but I don't know if it ever went anywhere. I do not recall seeing it on eBay's prohibited items list, but I could have overlooked it.
Even if it is in effect, there is probably someone who will figure out a clever way to word their listing to get around it, kind of like the way folks who sell saint's relics (which is forbidden by canon law) do: "You are bidding on the container. The relic inside is my gift to you." Yeah, right. Try selling that cheap brass box without the jawbone of St Mauritius in it and see who will give you $1500 for it.
Everything ended well at the estate sale that day. The woman in charge was off the hook. The dude's religious proprieties were restored, plus he got the satisfaction of righting what he saw as a serious wrong. I finally got checked out with my treasures. There was only one little sticking point to the whole ordeal.
I was bummed that I didn't see the pyx first.
Sunday, November 03, 2013
It's Off, Baby (sorta...)
I have failed you my grasshoppers! It apprears there will be no live blogging of any of my Birthday Junking Extravaganza Activities. I had not counted on two things:
1. I had not installed a blogging app on my phone to make it easier to do. I was also unaware that I had not done this.
2. Most of the places we went were a bit of a bust, in terms of writing and pics and (most importantly) finds.
I could have easily remedied the first and intended to, but after going to two church sales that were only kind of mediocre, I got really discouraged about it.
Sorry.
I did find a few things here and there and had a ball hanging out with Keith, but nothing was blog-worthy, except for this one place, which was also the kind of place where it was a little too risky to take pictures.
It's the kind of place I refer to as a "Deliverance Yard Sale" after, well, this. You never quite know if you're going to come out of those places in one piece.
The listing was fairly mundane. A used furniture place that I had never heard of was closing and moving out of town, so everything was on sale cheap. We get to the place and it's in one of those industrial/commercial centers. You know, with the nondescript corrugated metal buildings housing all kinds of different businesses?
We park and as soon as we get out of the car, there is this hulking young dude right there kind of loudly, berating us for not parking closer to the door. Keith moves the car to please him and I go on in the place. Hulking Young Dude (HYD) says to me: "You look kind of young, but you have all this white hair. What's up with that?"
Okay....social graces are not high on the list of positives here. Honestly, I'm so flabbergasted by the statement that I really don't know how to respond, so I kind of stammer out that I'm getting ready to turn 49. So as we enter the store, HYD yells out (yes YELLS): "Hey look at this guy. He says he's 49, but he looks so young!" Um...thanks...I think. Which prompts the other equally loud members of his family to all look and start remarking about my ever so youthful appearance to each other. I almost made a remark about this amazing portrait I keep in my attic, but decided against it.
Instead, I go to looking at stuff and realize a couple of things:
1. They may say that they are a used furniture store, but this place is full of all kinds of crap...most of it pretty crappy. Imagine the American Pickers pulling up at one of the Hoarders houses.
2. This may be a commercial complex, but there people are living here. It looks lived in. It smells lived in. One of the residents uses a litter box, which hasn't been scooped in a while. What are supposed to be offices are set up like rooms, with beds and couches that it is pretty obvious people have been sleeping on for a while. And all of this stuff is "for sale." Um, yeah.
In one of the rooms someone has written the following on the wall:
"I live here.
This is my mother.
This is my husband."
There were also phone numbers written there. I was too freaked out to try and snap a pic. Plus, HYD has taken a shine to Keith and is following us from room to room trying to sell us something.
Finally, he says that there is more stuff in the garage, which is next to the offices. I step in there and find a school desk I like, while Keith finds an air mattress. Most stuff is unmarked, but the desk says 10 dollars on it. I decide to barter a bit, plus I need to find out the price for the mattress. Everything else out there is pure crap.
So I go back into the other part and ask who I can ask questions to. HYD has disappeared, but his sister (?) Pierced Lip Girl (PLG) is there, along with "Mama" (who to this point, I have not noticed.) PLG says that she can help me, but first I have to clear up this matter of my age. Really? I assure that I am indeed nearly 49. I also decide that if she asks for ID, then I am out of there!
Fortunately, she doesn't. So I ask about the price of the mattress. She says she has to ask "Mama." Turns out, she'll do this for everything I ask. I thought she said she could answer my questions?
Anyway, "Mama" says that the air mattress is ten. I offer five. She takes it. Then I ask about the desk. Will they take five? "Mama" hems and haws a bit, then says she will. PLG goes to check me out.
At this point, I finally notice "Mama" who is sitting behind the counter surfing the net. She's a very large woman in a top that is, well, slightly smaller than she needs. Certain things are obviously just waiting to break forth and wiggle about freely. While I'm watching she cues up a Joan Jett video, and she and PLG begin to sing along and dance, which they continue to do for the entire time PLG is ringing me up. The dancing doesn't help the too small top keep the too large parts contained very well. There is a serious wardrobe malfunction on the verge of happening!
I grabbed my change. Keith grabbed the stuff. And we got the hell out of there!
And that would certainly be the most memorable part of this weekend's adventures.
1. I had not installed a blogging app on my phone to make it easier to do. I was also unaware that I had not done this.
2. Most of the places we went were a bit of a bust, in terms of writing and pics and (most importantly) finds.
I could have easily remedied the first and intended to, but after going to two church sales that were only kind of mediocre, I got really discouraged about it.
Sorry.
I did find a few things here and there and had a ball hanging out with Keith, but nothing was blog-worthy, except for this one place, which was also the kind of place where it was a little too risky to take pictures.
It's the kind of place I refer to as a "Deliverance Yard Sale" after, well, this. You never quite know if you're going to come out of those places in one piece.
The listing was fairly mundane. A used furniture place that I had never heard of was closing and moving out of town, so everything was on sale cheap. We get to the place and it's in one of those industrial/commercial centers. You know, with the nondescript corrugated metal buildings housing all kinds of different businesses?
We park and as soon as we get out of the car, there is this hulking young dude right there kind of loudly, berating us for not parking closer to the door. Keith moves the car to please him and I go on in the place. Hulking Young Dude (HYD) says to me: "You look kind of young, but you have all this white hair. What's up with that?"
Okay....social graces are not high on the list of positives here. Honestly, I'm so flabbergasted by the statement that I really don't know how to respond, so I kind of stammer out that I'm getting ready to turn 49. So as we enter the store, HYD yells out (yes YELLS): "Hey look at this guy. He says he's 49, but he looks so young!" Um...thanks...I think. Which prompts the other equally loud members of his family to all look and start remarking about my ever so youthful appearance to each other. I almost made a remark about this amazing portrait I keep in my attic, but decided against it.
Instead, I go to looking at stuff and realize a couple of things:
1. They may say that they are a used furniture store, but this place is full of all kinds of crap...most of it pretty crappy. Imagine the American Pickers pulling up at one of the Hoarders houses.
2. This may be a commercial complex, but there people are living here. It looks lived in. It smells lived in. One of the residents uses a litter box, which hasn't been scooped in a while. What are supposed to be offices are set up like rooms, with beds and couches that it is pretty obvious people have been sleeping on for a while. And all of this stuff is "for sale." Um, yeah.
In one of the rooms someone has written the following on the wall:
"I live here.
This is my mother.
This is my husband."
There were also phone numbers written there. I was too freaked out to try and snap a pic. Plus, HYD has taken a shine to Keith and is following us from room to room trying to sell us something.
Finally, he says that there is more stuff in the garage, which is next to the offices. I step in there and find a school desk I like, while Keith finds an air mattress. Most stuff is unmarked, but the desk says 10 dollars on it. I decide to barter a bit, plus I need to find out the price for the mattress. Everything else out there is pure crap.
So I go back into the other part and ask who I can ask questions to. HYD has disappeared, but his sister (?) Pierced Lip Girl (PLG) is there, along with "Mama" (who to this point, I have not noticed.) PLG says that she can help me, but first I have to clear up this matter of my age. Really? I assure that I am indeed nearly 49. I also decide that if she asks for ID, then I am out of there!
Fortunately, she doesn't. So I ask about the price of the mattress. She says she has to ask "Mama." Turns out, she'll do this for everything I ask. I thought she said she could answer my questions?
Anyway, "Mama" says that the air mattress is ten. I offer five. She takes it. Then I ask about the desk. Will they take five? "Mama" hems and haws a bit, then says she will. PLG goes to check me out.
At this point, I finally notice "Mama" who is sitting behind the counter surfing the net. She's a very large woman in a top that is, well, slightly smaller than she needs. Certain things are obviously just waiting to break forth and wiggle about freely. While I'm watching she cues up a Joan Jett video, and she and PLG begin to sing along and dance, which they continue to do for the entire time PLG is ringing me up. The dancing doesn't help the too small top keep the too large parts contained very well. There is a serious wardrobe malfunction on the verge of happening!
I grabbed my change. Keith grabbed the stuff. And we got the hell out of there!
And that would certainly be the most memorable part of this weekend's adventures.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Plain and Peanut. Ordinary and Funny.
So, I'm at the YesterNook outdoor sale this past Saturday and this kid comes into my area. He's maybe 12 or 13 and his hair is dyed lavender. I'm thinking either he's got a way cool mom or else she doesn't pay him any attention at all.
He heads right to the back of my sales area, and I thought he was going to the comic boxes that were set up on a table there. Turns out he was looking at what was under the table.
About a half hour before he got there, I bought eight M&M dispensers from another vendor for a buck each. I talked him down from 2 a piece because they were all filthy. There are a couple of M&M collectors who roam through the Peddlers Mall, so it's another category of stuff I snag when I can get it cheaply enough. I had put them in a box under one of my tables so I could take them home and deal with them later.
Well, this kid was totally in love with them. He told me one of the other dealers had some, but they were too expensive. He said he had one at home and he thought it would be cool to collect them. He wanted to know how much mine were.
He pulled them all out of the box one at a time and carefully checked them over. He said he didn't mind cleaning them up a bit. He tried them all out to make sure the levers worked. And he talked about each one of them. "This one is a little fatter than that one," he would say. "I bet it would hold more candy."
He talked about how the red M&M guy dispenser I had was shaped like a peanut M&M, but the red guy in the commercials is always a plain M&M. The yellow one is the peanut M&M. He was having the best time checking them all out.
Needless to say, I was completely charmed by the kid. I remember being a young, budding collector and trying to find things I could afford. I told him that he could have them for the same price I paid, a dollar each.
He got excited at that and decided that he would get four of them. He split them into two groups: the more ordinary ones and the ones he called the "funny" ones. Then he looked at them all one by one and explained why he was or was not going to get that particular one. He put all the ones he wasn't going to buy back in the box. In the end, the four he picked were his "funny" group: The Recliner, The Roller Coaster, The Movie Theatre, and The Golf Course (even though it was missing the club). he really liked the scenarios and stories each represented. He also liked the way the levers worked on each of them to dispense the candy.
He had one dollar on him and he gave it to me, then went in search of his mom to get the other three bucks. Uh oh, the Mom Factor. I kind of got worried the whole deal would fall through, so I decided I would offer him one for free if his mom said no to getting all four.
She came over, looked at them, and asked him what he would do with them. He said he would clean them up and display them in his room, like a collection. She said "okay" to that, so I decided she was one of the cool moms as she handed me three more dollars.
The guy I bought them from asked me why I didn't decide to make a little profit on them. They did have his 2 dollar stickers on them, after all. I thought about trying to explain "collector karma" and the whole being young and having an interest thing, but I knew he wasn't the type to get it. When I looked at the kid I saw me at that age, hitting flea markets looking for old comics, hoping my dad would give me some extra money if I found something special. When this other dealer looked at him, he just saw a customer. I finally said, "It just wouldn't have been right."
The four he didn't get are cleaned up and in my booth right now, waiting for another collector to come along. I had a few M&M things there already, but this buy gave me enough to make a proper display.
Don't they all look happy? I think a candy-themed display works for this time of year, don't you?
He heads right to the back of my sales area, and I thought he was going to the comic boxes that were set up on a table there. Turns out he was looking at what was under the table.
About a half hour before he got there, I bought eight M&M dispensers from another vendor for a buck each. I talked him down from 2 a piece because they were all filthy. There are a couple of M&M collectors who roam through the Peddlers Mall, so it's another category of stuff I snag when I can get it cheaply enough. I had put them in a box under one of my tables so I could take them home and deal with them later.
Well, this kid was totally in love with them. He told me one of the other dealers had some, but they were too expensive. He said he had one at home and he thought it would be cool to collect them. He wanted to know how much mine were.
He pulled them all out of the box one at a time and carefully checked them over. He said he didn't mind cleaning them up a bit. He tried them all out to make sure the levers worked. And he talked about each one of them. "This one is a little fatter than that one," he would say. "I bet it would hold more candy."
He talked about how the red M&M guy dispenser I had was shaped like a peanut M&M, but the red guy in the commercials is always a plain M&M. The yellow one is the peanut M&M. He was having the best time checking them all out.
Needless to say, I was completely charmed by the kid. I remember being a young, budding collector and trying to find things I could afford. I told him that he could have them for the same price I paid, a dollar each.
He got excited at that and decided that he would get four of them. He split them into two groups: the more ordinary ones and the ones he called the "funny" ones. Then he looked at them all one by one and explained why he was or was not going to get that particular one. He put all the ones he wasn't going to buy back in the box. In the end, the four he picked were his "funny" group: The Recliner, The Roller Coaster, The Movie Theatre, and The Golf Course (even though it was missing the club). he really liked the scenarios and stories each represented. He also liked the way the levers worked on each of them to dispense the candy.
He had one dollar on him and he gave it to me, then went in search of his mom to get the other three bucks. Uh oh, the Mom Factor. I kind of got worried the whole deal would fall through, so I decided I would offer him one for free if his mom said no to getting all four.
She came over, looked at them, and asked him what he would do with them. He said he would clean them up and display them in his room, like a collection. She said "okay" to that, so I decided she was one of the cool moms as she handed me three more dollars.
The guy I bought them from asked me why I didn't decide to make a little profit on them. They did have his 2 dollar stickers on them, after all. I thought about trying to explain "collector karma" and the whole being young and having an interest thing, but I knew he wasn't the type to get it. When I looked at the kid I saw me at that age, hitting flea markets looking for old comics, hoping my dad would give me some extra money if I found something special. When this other dealer looked at him, he just saw a customer. I finally said, "It just wouldn't have been right."
The four he didn't get are cleaned up and in my booth right now, waiting for another collector to come along. I had a few M&M things there already, but this buy gave me enough to make a proper display.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
God Bless You and Your New Undies Too!
Earlier this spring, I went to a yard sale at a church that's not too far from the house. It was advertised as a "youth group benefit." Based on what I saw there, the youth weren't really getting too much benefit from it. A few tables of well-used toys. Some books no one would want. A couple of tables of clothes.
To give them credit, everything was neatly arranged and priced. A lot of the clothing was new. I don't normally spend a lot of time looking through clothes, but I saw a whole bunch of new men's underwear in my size (or rather the size I'm rapidly growing into). It was really cheap, so I bought several pairs. You can never have too much underwear, after all.
I pay for the underwear and throw it in my backpack. As I'm leaving the church, a woman standing at the door asks if I found anything good. I tell her I bought new underwear. She looks at me, puts her hand on my shoulder, and says "Bless you." (Uhm....okay?)
I go out the door and start unchaining my bike. She's still standing there and says "You have to lock it up like that all the time?" I tell her about the one I had stolen, and she again says: "Bless you."
As I'm pedaling off, I take a look at the sign in their parking lot. It's got a picture of their pastors on it, and I realize that I have been talking to one of them. Then, I see the signs for the clothing closet and food pantry. And something clicks in my head:
I can see her giving that same reassuring pat and pastoral "Bless you" to everyone who comes in needing food or clothing. I've just been ministered to while I was buying underwear! I'm surprised I didn't get an invite to the clothing closet.
I've always thought I must be a sight, making my thrift rounds on my bike, laden with purchases. Now I know for sure.
That's me! Eddie the vagabond junker! I laughed about it all the way home.
To give them credit, everything was neatly arranged and priced. A lot of the clothing was new. I don't normally spend a lot of time looking through clothes, but I saw a whole bunch of new men's underwear in my size (or rather the size I'm rapidly growing into). It was really cheap, so I bought several pairs. You can never have too much underwear, after all.
I pay for the underwear and throw it in my backpack. As I'm leaving the church, a woman standing at the door asks if I found anything good. I tell her I bought new underwear. She looks at me, puts her hand on my shoulder, and says "Bless you." (Uhm....okay?)
I go out the door and start unchaining my bike. She's still standing there and says "You have to lock it up like that all the time?" I tell her about the one I had stolen, and she again says: "Bless you."
As I'm pedaling off, I take a look at the sign in their parking lot. It's got a picture of their pastors on it, and I realize that I have been talking to one of them. Then, I see the signs for the clothing closet and food pantry. And something clicks in my head:
- I've got my big huge backpack with me, stuffed with everything, as it usually is.
- I carried on about buying new underwear.
- I'm riding my bike, which I keep very secure due to theft.
- It has a couple of bags from the thrift down the street tied to the handle bars.
She thinks I'm homeless!
I can see her giving that same reassuring pat and pastoral "Bless you" to everyone who comes in needing food or clothing. I've just been ministered to while I was buying underwear! I'm surprised I didn't get an invite to the clothing closet.
I've always thought I must be a sight, making my thrift rounds on my bike, laden with purchases. Now I know for sure.
That's me! Eddie the vagabond junker! I laughed about it all the way home.
Monday, October 18, 2010
True Tales of Yard Sales: Go Get That Cross!
Actually, this is a true tale of an estate sale, but I think it all works out about the same. This is a slightly older tale, from back when I didn't totally have my blogging shit together. But, it's still a good story, and there's no statute of limitations on those.
This one took place about a year and a half or two years ago, during the usually sale-less months of winter. I wasn't doing the booth yet, so we were out shopping for the fun of it.
The sale was in a grand old house in a neighborhood near ours. There were three stories, tons of rooms, an awesome attic, and decor that had not been touched since 1945, at least. Every room was just chock full of all kinds of antiques and goodies, many way out of my price range.
At one point, when I was walking into a bedroom, I got pushed out of the way by a woman coming out of the same room. Pushed out of the way, as in rudely shouldered out of the way with no "excuse me" or any kind of acknowledgment of my presence whatsoever. I would have just ignored her--there are no shortage of rude people to be found at these sales, after all--except that she was carrying the largest statue of St Joseph I have ever seen in someone's home. It was easily 3.5 feet tall.
Image 'borrowed' from Knit and Pray blog.
We're talking classic, pre-Vatican II, Catholic home devotional statuary, complete with the Child Jesus and the lily of purity and everything. Just the kind of thing that makes me go totally weak in the knees, and it's in the arms of one of the rudest bitches I've come across in a while.
I was consoling myself with the thought that it was probably way out of my price range, when I stepped through the bedroom door and saw a sick call crucifix laying on the dresser.
Sick call sets were staples in Catholic homes in the pre-Vatican II era, and are still in use today, just not as much. They were kept in homes in case a priest needed to make a visit to a sick person.
The face of the crucifix would slide off and stand up. The inside held a cloth, a bottle of holy water and a couple of candles. The priest would have many of the tools he needed to do his work when he got to the home.
I find them at sales from time to time, usually empty. I've only found one or two over the years that still had all the contents in them. This one was not only empty, it was in pretty rough shape to boot. The corpus was loose from the cross and the wood had swollen so that it wouldn't slide easily open. It had some nice inlay work on the cross, but that was about all it had to recommend it.
It didn't have a price tag on it, either. Since a lot of what I saw in the house was priced way beyond my pitiful little range, I figured that, even in this condition, I probably couldn't afford it. I was just about to put it down when I heard this hiss from the door "Go get that cross. That man has it. Get it from him."
Well, being the only person in the room at the time and holding the only thing that even slightly resembled a cross, it was pretty obvious who the whisperer was talking about. But, seriously, "get it from him"? As in, "grab it out of his hands and run?" Really?
So I turn around and who is standing in the doorway (of the room she just left, mind you), pointing at me? It's Ms Bulldozer with St Joseph, and she's ordering a young boy of about 12 to come take something out of my hands. The poor kid is staring at the floor, clearly embarrassed by the whole thing. And I'm thinking "Seriously, honey? You've got the nicest item in the whole damn house and you're trying to get your kid to snatch this puny little thing from me? It's on, babe. It's so on."
So instead of putting it down, I held on to it, turned, looked her right in the eye, and walked out the door. I had no idea at this point if I would actually buy the thing or not, but I sure wasn't going to let her have it. I carried it from room to room, frequently followed by Ms St Joseph and her brood (which actually included three kids). From time to time, she would actually point at me and say "There he is!" or "That's my cross." or some such nonsense. It was actually quite deranged.
After my second or third such encounter with Mama Dearest, my evil side kicked in. I'd wait until I knew she had seen me, and I'd set the cross down, but never quite take my hand off of it. A couple of times, I actually just caressed it with my fingertips, like I was considering leaving it. She'd really start whispering orders to her kids then, and I'd snatch it up again and walk on.
Finally, I got to the point that I folded my arms, cradled the cross in them and walked around the place like an ersatz St Therese.
Image from DrStandley.com
I was kind of hoping to wait her out and then just leave the thing there, but my patience was wearing thin. So, I decided to go ahead and see what they were charging for it and then go. Sure enough, soon as I got in line to pay, she was right behind me, St Joseph and the kids in tow. I told the woman running the sale that it wasn't priced, and she looked it over thoroughly, then told me: "It really could be a nice piece, but it's in such rough shape. How about five dollars?"
That sounded good to me, so I paid her, crossed my arms again, cradled the cross in them, turned around to the crazy woman, nodded at her and left. As I was leaving, she was demanding that the woman running the sale tell her how much I had paid.
Honestly, everything about that sick call set just paled in comparison to the statue she had, but she hounded me through the house for it. If I hadn't been so fed up with her, I would have waited for her on the porch and told her she could have it for twenty bucks. Or else offered to trade it for St Joe.
There are obsessions, and then there are obsessions. That bitch was obsessed.
This one took place about a year and a half or two years ago, during the usually sale-less months of winter. I wasn't doing the booth yet, so we were out shopping for the fun of it.
The sale was in a grand old house in a neighborhood near ours. There were three stories, tons of rooms, an awesome attic, and decor that had not been touched since 1945, at least. Every room was just chock full of all kinds of antiques and goodies, many way out of my price range.
At one point, when I was walking into a bedroom, I got pushed out of the way by a woman coming out of the same room. Pushed out of the way, as in rudely shouldered out of the way with no "excuse me" or any kind of acknowledgment of my presence whatsoever. I would have just ignored her--there are no shortage of rude people to be found at these sales, after all--except that she was carrying the largest statue of St Joseph I have ever seen in someone's home. It was easily 3.5 feet tall.
Image 'borrowed' from Knit and Pray blog.We're talking classic, pre-Vatican II, Catholic home devotional statuary, complete with the Child Jesus and the lily of purity and everything. Just the kind of thing that makes me go totally weak in the knees, and it's in the arms of one of the rudest bitches I've come across in a while.
I was consoling myself with the thought that it was probably way out of my price range, when I stepped through the bedroom door and saw a sick call crucifix laying on the dresser.
Image from reigninggifts.com.
Sick call sets were staples in Catholic homes in the pre-Vatican II era, and are still in use today, just not as much. They were kept in homes in case a priest needed to make a visit to a sick person.
The face of the crucifix would slide off and stand up. The inside held a cloth, a bottle of holy water and a couple of candles. The priest would have many of the tools he needed to do his work when he got to the home.
I find them at sales from time to time, usually empty. I've only found one or two over the years that still had all the contents in them. This one was not only empty, it was in pretty rough shape to boot. The corpus was loose from the cross and the wood had swollen so that it wouldn't slide easily open. It had some nice inlay work on the cross, but that was about all it had to recommend it.
It didn't have a price tag on it, either. Since a lot of what I saw in the house was priced way beyond my pitiful little range, I figured that, even in this condition, I probably couldn't afford it. I was just about to put it down when I heard this hiss from the door "Go get that cross. That man has it. Get it from him."
Well, being the only person in the room at the time and holding the only thing that even slightly resembled a cross, it was pretty obvious who the whisperer was talking about. But, seriously, "get it from him"? As in, "grab it out of his hands and run?" Really?
So I turn around and who is standing in the doorway (of the room she just left, mind you), pointing at me? It's Ms Bulldozer with St Joseph, and she's ordering a young boy of about 12 to come take something out of my hands. The poor kid is staring at the floor, clearly embarrassed by the whole thing. And I'm thinking "Seriously, honey? You've got the nicest item in the whole damn house and you're trying to get your kid to snatch this puny little thing from me? It's on, babe. It's so on."
So instead of putting it down, I held on to it, turned, looked her right in the eye, and walked out the door. I had no idea at this point if I would actually buy the thing or not, but I sure wasn't going to let her have it. I carried it from room to room, frequently followed by Ms St Joseph and her brood (which actually included three kids). From time to time, she would actually point at me and say "There he is!" or "That's my cross." or some such nonsense. It was actually quite deranged.
After my second or third such encounter with Mama Dearest, my evil side kicked in. I'd wait until I knew she had seen me, and I'd set the cross down, but never quite take my hand off of it. A couple of times, I actually just caressed it with my fingertips, like I was considering leaving it. She'd really start whispering orders to her kids then, and I'd snatch it up again and walk on.
Finally, I got to the point that I folded my arms, cradled the cross in them and walked around the place like an ersatz St Therese.
Image from DrStandley.comI was kind of hoping to wait her out and then just leave the thing there, but my patience was wearing thin. So, I decided to go ahead and see what they were charging for it and then go. Sure enough, soon as I got in line to pay, she was right behind me, St Joseph and the kids in tow. I told the woman running the sale that it wasn't priced, and she looked it over thoroughly, then told me: "It really could be a nice piece, but it's in such rough shape. How about five dollars?"
That sounded good to me, so I paid her, crossed my arms again, cradled the cross in them, turned around to the crazy woman, nodded at her and left. As I was leaving, she was demanding that the woman running the sale tell her how much I had paid.
Honestly, everything about that sick call set just paled in comparison to the statue she had, but she hounded me through the house for it. If I hadn't been so fed up with her, I would have waited for her on the porch and told her she could have it for twenty bucks. Or else offered to trade it for St Joe.
There are obsessions, and then there are obsessions. That bitch was obsessed.
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