Utterly apathetic, a tad crabby and restless are not a good Combo. Actually I felt similar to what a nasty pretzel imposter must feel like when the pizza flavoring is dumped upon it. I could mope around and get nothing done or I can hop in my car and drive all over Cleveland to attend two promising estate sales. The first sale was on the west side of Cleveland and I purposely arrived late so as not to endure the aggravation of watching while early risers make off with all MY stuff.
I bet you could guess it was disappointing, but did you think it would be disturbing? Well it was. First and foremost I was perturbed by the fact that nothing was priced! I wanna wonder around muttering to myself not asking for prices. Second, there was an enormous wooden “structure” looming above my head, I spied chain, wires, carabiners, leather, pulleys, and multiple implements of dubious function. Third, I turned around, bumped into and spilled the contents of a box, and a massive pile of metal speculums came tumbling out as if trying to flee the scene with me. Mid century modern my eye! Try Middle Ages torture chamber. Fourth offense false advertising.
I could go home and have some lunch, but no I am looking for more trouble, so I hopped back into the car and headed east. The curse of the self-important collector was running rampant and I ducked and covered. Unfortunately all there was to duck under were really, really, really decorative afghans. There were three fur coats identically fashioned out of the same rodent in violet, hunter green and brown. There were a few beautiful and expensive pieces of furniture. I, however hadn’t yet removed the unneeded piece from The Husbands car from yesterdays excursion, so I don’t consider adopting any. I did acquire a little bundle, I don’t need any of it, but I cannot go home empty handed.
The lure of ridiculous cross stitching cannot be controlled and I grab this beauty.
The Teenager- MOM! You are not going to hang that in the kitchen!
me- oh yes baby!
The second spoil of the day is simply a reflection on my most recent and current mood, I’ll wear it often to keep the innocent from harm.
The third bit of windfall is a 1970’s chia pet, which according to the teenager is a large cucumber with a snout. She isn’t wrong, but I clean him up and name him Henry Higgins.
The torture chamber theme marches on with this fourth little gem that was nestled among sewing paraphanelia.
The batteries still work and now I can go home.