Bought vintage goodies. Fell in love with Stanley. Found the Worst. Ornament. Ever.
What a great garaging weekend!
I’ve missed taking pictures of yard sale pets since I came to Oregon, there have been so few. But I just needed to bide my time, for they have begun to emerge. Starting on Friday with Coby the Italian greyhound.
Then there was the tiny Chihuahua who got to try on a carrying case that originally belonged to…a teddy bear!
She just fit. Barely.
Teddy was a pound puppy who was half starved and afraid of men when they got him. He chose well for his forever family.
This soft, shedding gray kitty wanted to demonstrate the linens they had for sale. Yes, by laying on them. Not appreciated by his owners.
Saturday started with a sale right next door to us, where Bubba the kitty lives. Sorry, didn’t get a picture of him, but I will one of these days. Bub likes to hang out in our yard and roll in the dirt (what is it with yellow kitties and rolling in the dirt?). The first time we saw our house, he was basking in the sun on the front porch and followed us in to give us a tour. After I left Bubba’s sale I headed to another a few blocks away, where this was my favorite item.
The brainstorm of 13-year-old twin boys. Had a good chuckle with their dad over their entrepreneurial spirit. I was kind of tempted by one item he had for sale, one of those Razor scooter thingies, similar to this.
Had a quick fantasy of zooming along with Zoë running at my side, getting her thoroughly tired out. Then I remembered I live on a hill and the fantasy changed to one that included careening out of control and crashing and blood and pain. I don’t care much for blood and pain. Of course if Zoë were taller, maybe I could have taught her to ride it by herself, but she’s too short to reach the handle bars, and riding it wouldn’t wear her out. So I resisted.
The next thing I resisted was Bob. It wasn’t that hard.
Then I came to the sale where a cute girl was holding this little guy, who looks ready to defend her from all threats.
Her mom told me they do Chihuahua rescue, and this was one of their first. The daughter fell in love with him so he stayed. Then mom said they also foster kittens for the humane society, and I noticed a big chicken wire enclosure in the garage. They had a sweet young mama kitty and her four babies, who will be going back to the shelter to be adopted in a couple of weeks. Thank heavens they were too young, because I fell in love. With Stanley.
He snuggled up to my neck for a while, but when it came time for a picture he just wanted to get back to his mama and sisters. Then I noticed a couple more wire enclosures on the other side of the garage. “We do guinea pig rescue too,” they told me. Since not a guinea pig was in sight I figured they were all out, but just then the mom walked over to a refrigerator nearby and opened the door. Wild squeaking ensued from both pens, and a swarm of guinea pigs appeared. They were ecstatic with the lettuce she gave them.
It’s a wonder I got out of there without a few new pets, which I definitely do not need right now.
It wasn’t all nice pets, though – met some nice people too! Got into conversation with an elderly couple who were teasing each other about a campfire waffle iron. He thought he should buy it for her, and she tartly told him he could take her out to eat if he wanted waffles. She told me they’ve been married 63 years, so I’d guess they’ve worked out any waffle issues by now.
Another street had sales at two neighboring houses. I heard music as I drove up, and it turned out to be live, classical guitar.
He told me he’s a grade school music teacher. Had to smile to myself, because one of my best garage-sale-finds ever was my friend Linda, who is a grade school music teacher.
Didn’t buy anything at his sale, but next door I did. Tell you about that in a moment. First let’s run down the weekend’s finds, which set me back a whole $7.75. Got some full sized bath towels to use on dog washing days
a lifetime supply of safety pins
a brand new hummingbird feeder
and a book to read.
Not sure if this Corning coffee carafe is vintage since it’s in perfect condition, but the atomic stars (and the fifty-cent price tag) sealed the deal.
I am sure that these are vintage
as are these (It’s a postcard! It’s a plak!)
They need a good oxy soak, sure hope the stains come out. But the embroidery is very nicely done. This lady really knew how to stem stitch!
It was noticing something vintage in a box of ornaments that made me plunk down a buck for the box. This was at the sale next door to the music teacher. Of course I was hoping all the tissue-wrapped objects in the box would be variations of this.
Yes, it’s one of those little putz houses from Germany, covered with mica glitter. Alas, this was the only one of these in the box. However, I’d say I got my money worth, because it also contained the Worst. Ornament. Ever.
Which isn’t the set of little houses that fit over a strand of mini lights. They’re cheap but cute.
There were seven of them. I found some little molded resin houses, and a Hallmark Noah’s Ark.
Apparently the ark had already landed, for only the seals and polar bears remain on board. Perhaps they’re trying to get Mr. and Mrs. Noah to drop them off in a chillier climate.
One bundle remained. I unwrapped it and found it had a tag left on it, maybe from another sale.
Ah, it’s musical. I found the on/off switch and turned it on.
A tiny, high pitched whine ensued, like a mosquito humming a medley of carols. Before I could get it shut off both dogs zoomed over to find out what that noise was. “That’s the sound of the Worst. Ornament. Ever.” I told them. No, it’s not the bow on the top that’s so awful.
It’s the subject matter that makes me bestow this title. Now, we’ve all seen lots of tacky ornaments, right? There are a gazillion of them. My writing group once did an exercise where we came up with new themed ornaments, taking off from this:
We laughed ourselves silly over the Knitting S’more Ornament, and came up with some worthy successors. But no one proposed anything as awful as…
The Santa in an Outhouse Ornament.
Yup. Worst. Ornament. EVER. And I don’t know whether to laugh or cry over the fact that the designer actually put his name on it.