T-BIRDS AND TEAPOTS AND A TEA TOWEL TOO

Saturday morning started auspiciously at the bagel store. As I was waiting for my toasted bagel with cream cheese to be prepped, the other lady waiting for her order asked me if I came here often. I told her once in a while, and she said, “Here, I forgot to use my coupon, you can use it next time you come.” And she gave me a coupon for a free bagel with cheese with the purchase of a drink. Good through June—but I'll probably use it next week!

As I drove off, I noticed a duck in the parking. I think he was saving a parking place for someone.

I headed out, making my way toward a neighborhood sale in Huntington Beach. Saw a few signs along the way, and at the first sale I parked behind a man who was trying to fit a wooden easel into his small car. “You’ll have to be an artist now,” I commented, and he laughed and said first he had to figure out how to get the thing home. That’s when I noticed the car—a vintage Thunderbird.
“It's a ’55, with a ’57 porthole top,” he told me. “Yeah, it's really a lot of fun to drive.”

In the passenger seat lounged a large stuffed bunny. I said Bunny must really enjoy riding with him.
“I just bought him,” the guy said. “I figure on Easter it will be okay to use the car pool lane with him in the car, right?” I agreed—it would be just too churlish of the Highway Patrol to give someone a ticket on Easter just because their riding companion wasn’t actually a person.

I crossed the street and shopped the first sale, then headed back to my car. The T-bird man had finally gotten the easel wedged in his trunk, and was talking to another guy of about the same age. “Yeah,” I heard him say as I started my engine, “it's a ’55 with a ’57 porthole top. Really a lot of fun to drive.”

Down the street I found another sale, apparently held by several young couples. One of the guys was holding up this object and commenting on how cool it was.

A vintage bike light with AM radio. How I would have loved it when I was 12! I took the pictures and mentioned my blog, handing over one of my calling cards. They seemed to enjoy the card, and when I asked the price of something, one of the guys said a dollar, and then his wife said, “No, fifty cents! She’s the fifty cent lady.” Found something else I liked, and again she priced it at fifty cents. It's always so gratifying to encounter someone who speaks your language!

The neighborhood sale was a bit out of my usual area, but I'm glad I headed over there—it proved fruitful. Evidently this tract does a neighborhood sale annually, and I heard several sellers commenting that this was the most traffic they’d seen in several years. When I arrived home I found that my husband had the LA Times folded open to the big article headlined “Garage sales are a win-win in this economy .” Ummm…duh! I hope one of the results of this period is that people will realize that garaging is a win-win in any economy. Monetary issues aside (because the advantages are so obvious they hardly need belaboring), thrifting is green, and a heckuva lot of fun. Whenever I buy something new, I'm struck by how annoying all that packaging is. Besides putting more stuff in the landfill, a lot of it is just darned hard to get open. How in the world will I be able to get into one of those plastic clamshell thingies when I'm elderly? I can barely manage now with the help of electric scissors! Thank heavens most of what I buy is second hand—so no packaging, and no awful sizing smell in my ‘new’ clothes.

Okay, I'll step off my soapbox now!

The dogs of the day included Baxter, a miniature Schnauzer, who likes to bark. Also Bella the bulldog, who doesn’t bark.


Here’s what I picked up this week. I spent a total of $28.50, and over a third of it went for one deal. But I'm not going to tell you which, you’ll have to guess!

I scored two pairs of like-new Levi 550s in my husband’s size. Sorry, no picture, but you don’t need one. Just close your eyes and imagine a really cute middle aged guy. Now picture him in relaxed-fit jeans. You got it—that’s exactly what he looks like in his new 550s!

This Pooh lamp was the first buy of the morning.
I think I'll use it on my desk at work, so I can leave the obnoxious overhead fluorescents off. He looks a bit like he’s having a Near-Death Experience (“The light! I see a very bright light!”) but with that honey pot in his arms you know he’ll go happy.
Found door-prizes-to-be for children’s librarians:
This great monkey is made on a wire frame, so he’s posable.

Twenty-one new boxes of crayons—made from soybeans.

And who wouldn’t want a purple unicorn marionette?
I recently got a camcorder at work for making library webcasts, and this will make a good bag for it.
Of course the label has to come off. Danged if I'm going to walk around carrying a bag with a label that says Dickies.

These cat shoes are too cute. How I wish they were my size, but alas they are not, so they’ll be sold. They’re a size 9, so if you’re interested let me know and we could avoid the eBay middleman.
This find is a keeper however—a fabbo Noritake teapot, creamer and sugar bowl. I haven’t yet found the pattern name, so if anyone knows what it is, give a holler. I used the pot at breakfast this morning, and I just love it—the shape of the handle, the way it pours.

Speaking of breakfast, last week’s waffle iron is a keeper as well. I'm so happy to be able to use my waffle cookbook again (our last waffle iron died some time ago).

Great book (she wrote a wonderful pancake book too). This morning we had ricotta waffles with fresh strawberries and sour cream. Yummers!

I love the bunnies on this William Sonoma dish towel.
I scored three shirts and two sweaters. The soft pinwale corduroy shirt is a Polo Ralph Lauren. I may have to share it with my husband—we both like it.
I will need to shorten the sleeves on this denim colored Eddie Bauer sweater—evidently it started life as a guy’s sweater, but no need for it to stay that way!
Black Italian sweater of 100% merino wool—it has an incredible hand, very springy. If my hubs decides he doesn’t like it, I think I'll try felting it.
This sweet rayon blouse is a Liz Claiborne.
Says to dry clean, but as you may know, I don’t do dry clean. I've given it a hand wash and it's drying on the line. Keep your fingers crossed that it didn’t shrink so I can wear it with my swishy black skirt. But if it does shrink, my loss will be the thrift store’s gain.

And a cheerful border print shirt, should be fun to wear this summer. The fabric is linen and rayon, feels great.

I'll be able to replace one of my non-whistling kettles. The older and more forgetful I become, the more necessary is the whistle!
And lastly, a lovely framed watercolor. I think I'll hang it over my computer at home; I'm a little tired of the picture that’s there now.
I thought this bed of nasturtiums was amazing, and when I commented on it, the lady having the sale laughed. “We didn’t even know they were blooming. We always park the car right here so they were out of sight.” We talked about nasturtiums as edible, and she said when she was a child they put them on sandwiches. I've had them in salads, but a nasturtium sandwich sounds awfully charming!
Favorite comment of the day: at the sale with the vintage bike light, the conversation wandered from yard sales to weather (via the thought that we’re so lucky to be able to go to sales all year round here, unlike places with snow). One of the guys commented, “Talk about snow. I lived in Indiana for four years once. It was the longest eight years of my life.”

SATURDAY FLUFF

The cute little girl was helping her grandmother arrange their yard sale. I said what a good helper she was, then added, “You must be…four or five years old?” Her grandmother said yes, she was four and a half. But her granddaughter drew herself up and said, “I am four and three fourths.” “Wow,” I said, “you’re a good helper and you can do fractions!”

When I started out this morning I promised myself that everything tempting me during the morning would be put to this test: is it excellent, and will I use it now? Thrifting on a regular basis can be such a good time to practice self discipline! I certainly met some excellent pets. One was a plushy black cat named Sasha. Her owner lit up when he talked about what a great cat she is. Sasha was a little shy, which was disappointing because I was dying to see if her fur was as thick and soft as it looked in the morning sunshine.

A few stops later I met Ben E., a sweet elderly dog.
His owner said the name was originally just Ben, but he seemed to demand a middle initial, so he became Ben E. My pets always end up with middle names, so I knew what he was talking about. (Edward’s middle name, for instance, is Hopper—partly after the artist, partly because that is what he does.) Ben E. has been through much in his fourteen years, including getting his tongue caught in a paper shredder as a puppy. (youch! He had to have it sewn back on!) Not so long ago he had a stroke, and they thought that might be the end, but brave old Ben fought his way back. I think the thing that’s so inspiring about our pets is not just their amazing ability to heal, but the way they take whatever comes in their stride. I've been through a lot with my furry guys, and they never moan or complain or feel sorry for themselves. Wish I could say the same about myself! Whoever said that line about ‘wanting to be the person my pet thinks I am’ got it right.

My favorite overheard line of the morning came from a lady who was paying for some knickknacks and dishes and something cross-stitched. As she pulled out her billfold she remarked, “I thought I was stopping for gas money earlier, but this will get me way farther!”

I spent a total of $7 (not counting my own gas money!) and brought home these excellent items:

Two little lusterware demitasse cups.
They’re for my husband, who makes espresso regularly with his prized vintage La Pavoni. (Check out that shine—he gave it a major polishing this week.)
An angora sweater to felt.
A movie I've never seen, but Brenda Blethyn is fabulous so I figure it's worth a look.
A whole boxful of magazines—fifty in all.
Ought to keep me entertained for a bit. Some of the titles are not things I go out of my way to look at, but hey, this is my big chance to check out Retired Officer Magazine!
And the prize of the day—a brand new waffle iron, still in its box with the original sales receipt tucked inside.
It was originally $40, on special for $20. It was WAY more special when I bought it for $3! Of course, it makes heart shaped waffles, but what the heck. We can just eat heart shaped waffles until I find one I like better.

At my final stop of the morning I saw an amazing beaded dress and commented to the seller that I bet she had looked pretty slinky in that. She laughed and said I should try it. I noted that it was about five sizes too small for me, and that anyway I actually own an amazing beaded dress myself, only I've never found any place to wear it. “Oh, let me tell you,” she said. “We now go to the performing arts center once a month, and that’s when I get myself all fluffed up.” I loved that phrase, and when I left I told her I'd keep an eye out for her at the theatre. “I know I'll recognize you,” I said. “You’ll be the fluffy one!”

A WHOLE YEAR!

Today the Queen of Fifty Cents is one year old. The blog, that is. The human part of the enterprise is considerably older than that. Though here is what I looked like when I was about a year old:

Elegant little thing, wasn’t I?

Before I started this blog, I thought about it for a long time. I kept putting it off. I was afraid. I was afraid no one would read it, and I was afraid the wrong kind of people would read it. (I'm good at holding multiple mutually incompatible fears at the same time.) I was afraid it would prove to be too much work, and that I would get bored and drop it. And then one day (just a little over a year ago) the sensible voice in my head said, so what if no one reads your blog. Or what if they do read it and you get weird or nasty comments. They can't do anything to you. And if you get bored, you can stop.

So once I gave myself permission to stop, I was able to start.

Contradictory little thing, aren’t I?

Perhaps predictably, the fears were unfounded. At first, no one did read my blog. But it grew. In the last year, my blog has been visited 28,029 times by 20,254 people. Over 8100 have stopped by more than once. I have so enjoyed your comments and camaraderie. Sometimes it feels like getting fan mail, and people have shared that I actually made a difference in their lives. Some have felt more free to talk to people when they’re out garaging, and have gotten good stories in return. Some have thought of me when they found a great bargain. I even have friends that I first met at yard sales. You just never know what you’ll find on Saturday morning!

So on my first blog birthday, I want to say thank you for stopping by to share my Saturday fun, and especially for your comments. I have saved them all and if ever I need a lift I go read a few. Wow!

As if to celebrate, a package arrived in today’s mail. It came from the Thrifty Chicks, who sent an email a few days ago saying that the person who had won one of their giveaways had never claimed her prize, so they drew again, and my name came up. You can bet I responded right away! So today my blog got a birthday present—these adorable vintage egg cups:

As I told them, this is not the first time I've benefitted from being second. When I graduated from library school and got my first job as a children’s librarian, one of my new colleagues just had to make sure I knew that I had not been first choice for the job, that someone else had turned it down. Well, I was number two, but I said yes, so there! And about eight years ago, we were looking for a kitten after our sweet Buster cat had died. We went to the humane society and saw the sweetest baby kitty and fell in love. Her litter mates were all asleep, but this one was wide awake and walking around on the others, sticking her little paw out of the cage and saying, “Pick me! Pick me!” But a note on the cage said there was a hold on her, so we couldn’t have her. I went back a few days later to see if any new kittens had arrived, and she was still there—the other people never came back for her. So Mrs. Wilberforce went home with us.
Mrs. W then:
Mrs. W now:
She actually is an elegant thing!

So the Queen of Fifty Cents begins her second year. Hope you’ll come along!

ROSES AND TROPHIES AND A SUNNY SPRING DAY

What a special day—the first Saturday of the year with more neighborhood yard sales that I could get around to! Of course, in one of life’s little ironies, there didn’t seem to be much worth taking home (though I still managed to spend a few bucks). But the journey is more important than the destination, and what I did find was choice!

My friend Marcia was with me again this week, and we took turns exclaiming over the beauty of the day. Sunny and warm with a bit of a breeze, and everywhere lots of blooms on trees, shrubs and perennials. Roses everywhere…well, everywhere but my yard. I like roses, but I don’t do roses. So it's nice to get to admire them at other people’s houses. We were leaving one sale, making the curve around the end of the cul de sac, and we noticed the landscaping on the end house was just wonderful, with a curved path disappearing between beds of roses and other flowers. The lady who lived there was in her yard, so we called out how beautiful it was. She came over to the car and said she just couldn’t wait until her roses “really started blooming.” She said she comes out every day to see what’s happening in her flowers. Me too! Made me think about one of my favorite books, Return to Gone Away by Elizabeth Enright, where old Mrs. Minnehaha Cheever is talking about spring: “Think of how beautiful it will be…all the reeds of Gone Away tipping and swishing, and the redwings calling, and the bullfrogs grumping, and the roses just— Oh, I declare I can hardly wait for it myself! No matter how old a person gets, he’s never old in the spring!”

Met up with other Saturday morning regulars. There was Nancy, whom I wrote about last September, and Linda and Shelley (Linda and I play music together sometimes—but we met on a driveway!). Linda was jazzed because she had found the dining room table she’s been looking for, as well as two oak bookcases. And the guy even delivered the bookcases. Such a deal! There was even someone having a sale that I remember from last year. At least, I remembered her after I said hello and asked if she was having fun. Turns out she’s pretty deaf and I had to repeat myself much more loudly (“Are you having a fun morning?” loses a lot of its jauntiness when you have to up the volume), and when she baldly answered “No”—well, that’s when I remembered her!

I spent $9.25, and $5 of it went for one purchase. Can you believe the Queen of Fifty Cents has been doing these major splurges? Five dollars here, ten for a set of patio furniture a couple of weeks ago…don’t know what the world is coming to! But that fiver went for something useful—this brand new pair of shoes. I tried them on at the sale and they felt fine, and I put them on when I got home and have worn them now for several hours and they fit perfectly.

The next biggest category was door prizes. I found a large, soft stuffed dog who can help advertise the pet books, and will let kids read to him for hours, and a purple cow hand puppet.

And for our baseball summer reading program, I scored these trophies which will make fun decorations or even prizes. The teenage girl who had won them was decluttering her room, and she said she’d taken all the engravings off her trophies and is going to frame those bits together. So she’ll have a nice memento and we get the trophies and everybody wins.

This little midcentury Melmac sugar bowl is now the repository of the ibuprofen in my bathroom.
A small Christmas tree that will look lots better when I've cleaned off the old tinsel and coaxed it into a nicer shape.
I didn’t even notice the little ornaments when I picked it up (just the fifty cent price tag!) but some of them are fun.



I picked up some stuff to read (if you haven’t read Fannie Flagg’s books—do!).
And something I've always wanted to try—pie weights.
I've been making pies for at least 45 years, and I finally get to try out pie weights. I tell you, a little patience and fifty cents will get you just about anything your heart desires!