Home Again. With Loot!

Had a great trip down to the SF Garden Show with my friend Marcia. While the show itself is smaller now than in the past there was still plenty to see, and we met all kinds of interesting people.

 

Since Marcia and I used to go garaging together regularly, and since I used to live in the Bay Area, naturally I wanted to take her to whatever sales we could find in my old hunting grounds. And it was the perfect excuse to drive through gorgeous neighborhoods all up the Peninsula and ooh and ahh over the houses and gardens. My own old house is looking pretty loved these days, which made me happy.

We completely relandscaped that yard, and built the picket fence with our own hands.

So Saturday morning we started out to find some sales. At the first one I watched a guy being rude to a lady. She asked how much a pressure cooker was and he said ten bucks. She clearly wasn’t interested at that price, and he asked how much she wanted to pay. She said a dollar, and he began jeering at her. I waited a moment but then I couldn’t stand it and said to him, “You didn’t ask her how much she would pay, you asked how much she wanted to pay. I’d want to pay a dollar for it too.” To give him credit he laughed and agreed. But I still thought he was a jerk.

It was a big sale, and I found something I’ve wanted for ages. (And was very glad there was someone else to pay, since I didn’t want to give that guy any money!) At long last I have a full set of chrome Lincoln Beautyware canisters, woo hoo! They looked pretty shabby

but at three bucks for the set I figured I’d take a chance. And they cleaned up quite nicely. The handles were refreshed with a magic marker!

I think they look pretty spiffy on my countertop.

At another sale the young woman was waiting for her friend to arrive with more stuff. While we were looking around, she answered a call from the friend and berated her for being late and why did she go out last night and have a hangover when she knew they were doing the sale the next morning. Then she hung up and repeated the entire conversation to us even though we’d just been forced to listen to the whole thing.

Another sale had a box of DVDs, and I asked the price. A dime each; definitely a price I can live with! Found three I might want in our collection, but when I went to pay they waved away my thirty cents. “Just take ‘em,” the lady told me, and I’m always happy to be given stuff. She was recently widowed and is moving to much smaller quarters. You could tell it was hard, but she was so determinedly cheerful that I’m sure she’ll make it just fine. Even without my thirty cents.

A while later we stopped at another sale. It was late in the morning but they still had a lot of stuff. Found another box of DVDs and asked the price. The daughter of the house (in her twenties) told me to pick out what I wanted and she would make me the best deal I’d ever seen on them. I started to laugh and told her at the last sale they had given me three new, shrink wrapped DVDs. She looked around at all the stuff still on their driveway and nodded. “Take what you want,” she said. “Believe me, no one will ever notice!”

We wended our way up through Redwood City and San Carlos and Belmont and San Mateo and Burlingame, and finally stopped for a snack. After that we were just going to drive around some pretty neighborhoods, but the first corner we went around brought us to one more sale. They were starting to close up but were happy for us to look. “There’s more in the backyard,” the lady told us, and indeed there was – a clothesline still full of absolutely beautiful women’s clothing. “A dollar apiece for the clothes,” she said, and it was just too tempting. Marcia bought a few to give to friends, and I picked up some to either give to Judy if she can use them, or resell, or upcycle.

It was the perfect end to our garaging adventure. And while I’m very happy to be home, and looking forward to seeing what the driveways of Salem will have to offer this weekend, I admit that getting to go to sales again in that place was very special. Okay, I admit it – the garden show was just an excuse!