Month: April 2012

This is my windowbox.  We paid a whole lot of $$$$$ for this piece of crap.  It came with a lifetime warranty.  Sure it did. 

We babied it last year and made it work, but this year the entire top was rotting and it no workie.  I went to Lowe’s and geez as in Louise, they put something in the garden department and jack up the price like we’re all crazy enough to pull out our Visa.  So I roamed the home improvement store looking for an alternative.

I ended up getting some hanging willow baskets for $7.00, but with the weight of the flowers that hanger thing would break in no time.  And join the above-mentioned piece o’ crap.

Thinking, thinking.

I came home and went to my project pile and found two boards to put on the brackets.  I picked these up from a pile behind Mallie Bee’s dance studio.  She was mortified.  They were there forever which means nobody needed them.  Then I had them here forever which means……….nothing.

It needed some Purse-O-Nality so I added the white border fence that I picked up from the curb.  I’ve got a stack of those I haven’t used but can’t throw them away.  Me and patina……….we go steady.

Then I stuck a chipped up gold frame in there because you must add a little class to a little junk.  This calls for a party.  With candles on my shelf.

First, I’ve got to paint that not painted shingle.  And then the whole house.  That thing hanging on the corner is a piece of metal that was a dollar.  Nobody knew what it was.  Me either but I bought it and stuck it there.

I love metal.  Don’t tell patina.

……….and when I get to be creative and plant, I feel planted.

I was taking Mallie Bee to dance and she was telling me there’s been some crack-a-lackin going on at ballet.  Her teachers are a husband and wife team who were professional ballet dancers, and they do not suffer slackers.  You’d better pay attention and work harder than you’ve ever worked in their classes or you will not survive.  While she was giving me the deets, I made some lame joke that I thought was hilariously funny.

This is what you do, Mom.  You crack YOURSELF up and nobody else, she said.  Do you just laugh all day at your own jokes?

Sometimes.  Which at that moment seemed loserish.

Part of the attire requirements for the girls is to have a red ribbon tied around their perfect little bun.  In these highly disciplined days of late, if you show up for class without the ribbon in your hair you’ll have to sit out.

Oh, that’s ridiculous. 

I know, Mallie Bee said, but they mean it. 

I dropped her off and told her to hang in there and tell ’em I said NOBODY PUTS BABY IN THE CORNER.

Which I thought was hilariously funny.

For the rest of the night and part of the following day.

I’ve written about my thrifty ways enough for you to probably think I am a cheapskate.  I am not.  I spend more than I should and have a frequent chat with myself about wants vs. needs.

I started working retail when the kids were little because the schedule was flexible.  While employed at small businesses, I always saw the cost of an item from the manufacturer on the purchase order.  Typically, if it came in at $20.00 it would get doubled plus a margin of $10.00 – $12.00.  That’s why even when something is marked half off there is still some money being made.  Not much, and no business can survive on that, but hopefully enough is being sold at full price to make up for the markdowns.

The Mayor of Crazy Town took that formula and threw it out the window, buying denim jackets for $15.00 and selling them for $89.00.  Cotton warm-up jackets came in at less than five dollars.  Cheap goods marked incredibly high, and because it was a boutique customers thought they were something special.

They were not.

You cannot buy the material to make a jacket for $4.50 let alone pay someone else to do it and ship it across the world.  And therein lies the problem, as this is likely coming from a sweat shop and participating in that has become a constant moral dilemma for me.

I fail frequently.  I pass a rack of shirts at Target and throw one in my cart.  Do I need it?  Where did it come from?  What did the earth choke up in resources to get it to me?  But if it’s only $19.99 how can I pass it up?

I’m trying and listening to my conscience……….which has become very loud this last year. 

You may remember reading about my Irish friend here.  He has Alzheimers and I sometimes see him on my morning walk.  He says things to me like “Top of the morning” and “That’s a mighty fine dog you’ve got there.”

He starts my day with a pitter-pat.

I was out walking and he was standing on the porch of a home a few doors down from his own.  Knocking.  Waiting for them to answer.  I walked up to see if I could help.

He showed me a set of keys and the fob had an engraving of a German Shepard on it.  These folks lost these, he said, and I need to return them.   I’ve raised a few of these myself.  Good dogs.  They’re going to be pretty upset to find out this is missing.

Can I see?

On the back side was an address.  His address.

Well, they don’t seem to be home.  Maybe we should walk back to your house.

O.k., he said, but I’m going to come back later before they start to worry about this dog.

We walked to his house and stood in front, and he looked at it like it was the first time he’d seen it.

Maybe you should go inside and have another cup of coffee.

Yes.  Yes.  That’s a good idea.

You can try later.  Maybe they’ll be home by then.

Yes.  You know, my wife and I raised eight kids in this little house.

I know.

You never know, he chuckled, maybe I have another eight somewhere else.  Well, it was good visiting with you.  Top of the morning.

Eight somewhere else????

Before we parted, he remembered that he was funny and when that comes to an end me and my mighty fine dog will mourn the day.

When The Big Daddy was in graduate school, I worked for a bank.  Two of the girls I worked with always had cute hair and so I asked them who their stylist was.  They raved about this guy with the magic touch and one of them was his hair model for stylist competitions.

I had no idea there was such a thing.

I decided to give him a try.  Many stylists will say they love the crazy curls but that doesn’t mean they should be cutting them.  When I sat in his chair, he said I was in good hands since his sister had the same kind of hair.  Whew.

Then he cut my entire head with an electric razor.  I kid you not. 

The Big Daddy said my new style looked a little bit like her…………….

Which is something a white girl shouldn’t imitate.

When I went to work the next day they were shocked, and not in a hip-makeover-oh-my-God-you-look-great way.  Shocked like he must have had an off day.  Ya think?

I read that John Edwards current financial situation requires him to cut expenses and instead of the $1200.00 haircuts he got when he was running for President, he is now going to Supercuts for $12.95.

When he was a candidate and on all the political talk shows, I was inspired by him.  The Big Daddy thought otherwise.  Nah, he said, his hair’s too perfect.  Something’s not right about him.

Oh BD, I thought at the time, you’re talking crazy.  But just like he knew his wife was no Grace Jones, he also knew John Edwards was no President.

On Saturday, I dragged The Big Daddy to an estate sale.  To me this is the most fun a person can have.  To The Big Daddy this is like prepping for a colonoscopy.

I had checked out the sale the day before with the intent of going back when things were 50% off, so I knew exactly where the goods were that I wanted.  I made my pile and after The Money Lady added it up The Big Daddy started taking it to the car.

While I was writing my check she said, “You were here yesterday, weren’t you?”  Yes.

“We talked about you after you left.”  You did?

 “Yes, cuz you look just like Liz Taylor.”  Bwahahahahahaha…...

“You do.  People must tell you that all the time.”  Actually never. Ever.

When The Big Daddy came back in the house I said you’re not going to believe who these people think I look like.  You could say that he wasn’t in the mood.  That he looked like he wanted to shoot somebody me.  That it was over for him five miles ago when he put the key in the ignition.

Are we done here, he said, putting a halt to the celebrity look-alike conversation.    

Gotta go New BFF.  Thanks for making my day.  Sorry Mr. T. put the ix-nay on the fun-nay.

Liz Taylor married seven different men.  If I’m going to make it to the finish line with one, I’ll have to leave him at home when I’m rummaging through dead people’s stuff.

Long before I started doing this vintage/repurposing thing as a business, people would tell me about a cool piece of furniture on some curb that they thought I might like.  How did they know this?  Well, my driveway is a dead giveaway of somebody who can’t help herself from cleaning, sanding, staining and painting the trash of others.

Now that I am doing it for money, the calls for potential goods have become more frequent.  If a dumpster moves in where one of my peeps lives, they will keep an eye on it to let me know whether it’s dive-worthy.

Last fall, my friend Karen called and left a message.  A little excited and out-of-breath.  “You have to get over here.  There’s a great piece on the curb across the street.  Don’t wait.  Hurry.”  I was in the shower and when I called her back she said she’d watch it until I got there.

When I arrived she had already dragged it over to her driveway in fear of someone else taking it.  It was a filthy, ugly fabric, rusty nailhead, sad, little wicker piece.  I will say that she had more faith in me than I did in myself because I loaded it into my car as more of a courtesy for all her effort than actual excitement.

It sat in the garage for six months and when I pulled it out last month I noticed the springs were hand-tied which nobody does anymore.  On the back was a metal plate that said Heywood Wakefield, and The Queen Mum who will never understand this trash hauling of her daughter, said I got a keeper.

This is what happens when you have a picker, some stain, a new seat, fabric, pillows, a lot of time and a crazy, unexplainable crush on all things old……………….