notes from maggie's farm
I think I may have mentioned before just how much I love antiquing. If I haven't, I do. In fact I'm sure you've noticed a few 'finds' in pictures all over this weblog.
My friend Susie, a dealer of beautiful antiques, will agree, however, that I am cheap. I mean I know the value of these things. I've been doing this for a year or two (like about 40 years, if you count the years I spent tagging along with my mother), so the prices come as no surprise to me. And these little treasures are worth every penny. It's just that I will likely always have that salad-days-single-mom-student mindset, even if those days have passed (mostly)--if you really want something beautiful, and it's out of your range, get the chipped or worn or cracked version, and turn that side to the wall. No one'll be the wiser and you will, indeed, have something beautiful.
|No, they don't match. But the seals are in perfect shape, and|
they're FRENCH, forevermore!
Now, please don't come by the house and start turning things around to find the flaws, especially the homekeeper herself. You will invariably find one (or a dozen). But It'll be the most decorative chip you've ever seen, and it will have been obtained at less than half the non-flawed price.Naturally, a thrift store, well that's a great place for me. Because you have to really dig to find a jewel at a thrift store. And it's all just a little cheaper. Less expensive, that is. I think of the thrift store as the country cousin of the more urbane antique store. So, no surprise that I should find myself, early Saturday morning, waiting at the door for the the local thrift store to open.
|"I spend a great deal of time thinking about those people, |
imagining the previous owners, as I scavenge through their leftovers. "
In my experience, it's not all that easy to fit in in a small town, unless you've lived there a long time. Could be the hipster glasses I sport, the Chuck Taylor's, that I insist on eating with chopsticks, even though there are plenty of forks to be had, at that one Thai restaurant (that used to be inside the Shell station before they built that wall), I'm learning French, when clearly, Spanish is the most common second language in these parts and the only person that speaks French is my French instructor, there was that time when I nearly shut down the entire grocery store when I asked for prosciutto, I play opera that blares from my car like I'm trying to MUZAK the entire town square, We load hay and feed into a convertible instead of a truck (the most popular in town of which is the size of a small home). I know it. You don't have to say it. I'm a little eccentric. I'm that kind of odd that a big city absorbs. Not so much in a small town. But lately, I've been overjoyed to find friends that chuckle at, and love me, just as I am. Thank you my friends!We have a fancy schmancy resale shop that has beautiful clothes for those who are approximately half my size. A 'charity store' up the road that's really just someone's cover for collecting free cr#p, then littering the entire parking lot with it in such a way as to be an eyesore from just about any direction you enter that town. The nicest lady that owns a lovely gift shop on the square. And several great antique stores in the town, proper.
|"I'm learning French, when clearly, Spanish is the most common second language|
in these parts and the only person that speaks French is my French instructor..."
I have a system. I hit the kitchenware first. I look for anything old. Here, chipped, cracked or rusted will not do. I'm going to use these things, after a good washing. And I always find really cool stuff. Lots of treasures go in the cart. Gold mine today!
|"Lots of treasures go in the cart. Gold mine today! "|
Then there's the clothes. This store is mostly clothes. I check every rack. No to polyester. No to elastic waistbands. Well, maybe? No. No to rhinestones. No to animal print (enough already with the animal print!) Dresses? It looks like my friend, Lisa, has already been here. Nothing good left. Several beautifully starched blouses, so I go through them quickly by doing what I do anywhere; slip my right arm in. No need to look further if that right arm is tight. So, no. I have the upper arms of a sumo wrestler. I hit the menswear. Where are all these tiny people hiding in Burnet? No. no. no. No clothes. I don't know who I was kidding, anyway. I'm so picky about clothes.
|"Here, chipped, cracked or rusted will not do. I'm going to use these things ..."|
Here is the sum total of what 23 dollars plus change will getcha on a Saturday morning at the Burnet Library Thrift Store.
|Who knew I could pull together a French theme from |
my foray through the Burnet Library Thrift Store!?
Middle: Gigantic wooden bread basket. $6. !!!, French Baling Wire Canning Jars, total--less than $4 for all 3. !!!!
Bottom: Two French Grammar books--$2, each. !!!!!
And under it all, a hand-pieced quilted sham, in the colors of the French flag (and our's too!), no less, $4. !!!!!!
It was the best morning of thrifting ever! That is, until the next morning of thrifting, probably. Well, it was an EXCELLENT day of thrifting, no doubt!
|Dear Elizabeth Snay of Levittown, New Jersey, |
How in the world did your little French book wind up in the Burnet Library Thrift Store?
Now, more about this little baby. This is really something. It's really something because, this, this little book, with the little nameplate on the inside cover, this is inspiration, my friend! This just became my next writing project. I'll keep you posted on that.
I'm so excited!