and an equally crazy week ahead of me. Not much posting going to happen but wanted to share this poster I saw on my friend’s blog.
Poster put out by these interesting folks.
I read this poster to my 6 year old and asked him what he thought it was about. He glanced up and said, “Stereotypes.” and went back to reading his Star Wars book. What are you doing this week?
My favorite little thrift spot is seasonal and they just opened this morning for the spring. I was there 20 minutes before opening with the little one, to wait in line. The folks who came after me formed a lateral line which would have sent me into a rage if it were anywhere but C&P’s. The thrift “store” is housed in a garage and it’s a little tight in there but I managed about 9 laps around the place, adding more to the stroller each time. First thing I picked up was a replogle vintage globe on a beautiful stand, 2 bucks – BAM. Then I spotted a vintage Boston Public School desk and chair, it’s lower middle on the grid. Or at least the underside is pictured, the desk has elaborate wrought iron legs and a wooden top with a beautiful patina. The chair is perfection on a metal base. More photos to come when they are not shoved into the back of the minivan.
Oh, and I got a COMPLETE box of vintage vocabulary cards for a quarter. LOVE THEM THE BEST. I have to go pick up my big guy from school so I’ll rush through the remaining scores: vintage wooden kite string winder upper thing that is as light as a whisper, a mid-century lamp that I did not capture in it’s full glory – it has a double shade!, I got a milk glass chicken because it seemed like I should (not usually a chicken gal), a funky little metal bowl filled with seeds for 10 cents a pack, and a sweet little bird that I believe hangs out at bars and spits lime into drinks (at least that is my vision for her)! Life is a little more sparkly with Charlie and Pat’s up and running. It’s like someone hit the “vibrancy” on picnik a few times and I LOVE it!
Happy thrifting to you!
This is the picture of success, his not ours.
I boiled all the pacifiers in the house and forgot them cooling beside the stove. I heard the happiest squeal of delight coming from the kitchen, like all holidays and birthdays melted together and formed into the shape of a rubber duckie, kind of squeal. Before I could investigate, my little guy came tearing down the hallway juggling all the pacifiers (or suck monkeys as I wanted to call them, vetoed). He had them all in his hands, and mouth, and was ready to use them.
Someone should come from Harvard and study this kid’s pacifier usage. There may be a pattern to his rotation that could cure diaper rash or something.
Pacifier stew, it’s the only thing cookin’ in my house tonight.
