You’d think that living in a big state-capitol city like Columbus, I’d have all sorts of luck at the thrifts, but you’d be wrong; I actually did far better in West Virginia and Ohio Valley thrifts in general. My suspicion is that the larger population means I compete with others who love the same mid-century goodies I do; in the Ohio Valley, it is still mostly seen as “old stuff” to be gotten rid of. Should I tell you of the last two weekends’ worth of failed yard/garage/estate-saling, I think several of you would probably shed an actual tear or two for me.
At any rate, gone (it seems) are the days of my popping into Goodwill and nine times out of ten finding vintage Pyrex, enjoyable kitsch, the occasional 1940s or 50s sewing pattern, and piles of items begging for nothing more than a good scrubbing and a coat of spray paint—and all needing a good, loving home. I’m telling you: Eartha Kitsch has all the luck (which is fine, but if the thrifting muses could throw me just a few more bones, I’d be greatly appreciative)! Our nearest Goodwill is awfully thin on pickings, and the one with all of the good stuff is in an area sketchy enough (weird, as it’s only a few miles from Easton, but that’s how it goes) that Hubby has told me not to go without him.
That said, I am a tenacious sort and simply can’t get rid of that thrifting, bargain-hunting bug. It pays off, too, though rarely so well as it did two weeks ago—just in the nick of time, too, as I was becoming a little despondent at the lack of brag-able thrift scores.
Ben doesn’t seem too thrilled, but I certainly am! Isn’t that a marvellous planter?
We were up in Newark when we decided to check out the Goodwill there. I’d previously found a little girls’ Hollywood Pattern for just seven cents (SEVEN CENTS! Unheard of!) at this particular shop, so it seemed like a good spot to hit. Sure enough, as I began trawling through the “home goods” aisle, there it was: a fabulous 1950s planter…in the shape of a collie! The story becomes better still, though. The collie was tagged at $8, but he had a few weird marks on the back of his ruff. Approaching the clerk, I asked if the shop would let me have the planter for $5—it couldn’t hurt to ask, right? And wouldn’t you know, they let me buy the collie for just five dollars! I could not hand over that bill quickly enough.
At least Buckley isn’t made nervous by the thing. Now, to find a cat-safe plant to stick inside!