...blah. Nothing says "summer cold" like a hooded sweatshirt on a 90 degree day.
To add insult to illness, when I was driving home from the shore house the other night my car was making a distinct and somewhat scary noise that I suspected was my front brakes. I took the car to the mechanic yesterday and turns out it was the brakes. I had none. (In the front, at least.) The other distinct and somewhat scary noise you may have just heard was my mother yelping as she read this.
Anyhoo, I'm OK, the car's (going to be*) OK, and all is well. I've got things in the bag. And I do mean that quite literally. A bag-for-three-bucks bag, in fact.
There was another Ladies' Auxiliary Bazaar in town. My old friend Kelly (she is not old, but our friendship is) came over for a visit and we took a stroll through the aisles and piles and PILES of stuff and "exceptionals." And yes; there was actually a table labeled "exceptionals." We took a gander at some other "exceptionals" -- the people who were stripping down to their swimmies to try on clothing from the masses of it spread over several banquet-sized tables. Our heads did a sort-of Linda Blair 360, and we had to leave. It was just...too much.
That is why I fear Kelly may be yelping right now as she's finding out that I returned the next day and did some shopping.
The next morning, my young neighbor friend/TGT (Thrifty Girl in Training) told me that after 12:30 prices would be slashed and anything you could stuff in a brown grocery bag (with the exception of the "exceptionals," natch) would be three bucks a bag.
So with TGT in tow I headed back on Saturday. I immediately headed to the Christmas table -- but on my way got distracted by this vintage Flamenco dancer doll.
It's kind of odd, but in a cutesy vintage way (I think?), and my friend is a Flamenco dancer so I figured she'd at least get a kick out of it. (Happy belated birthday, Daniela!) I tossed it (her?)in the bag and moved on to Christmas.
I've had luck in the past at "bag-stuffing" events with ornaments. I immediately spied the boxes of balls, many newish but many vintage. Especially the fabulous bell-shaped ones:
These will be used to stuff vessels and vases, and perhaps even make one of those ornament wreathes.
I lost TGT at this point but she reappeared to show me a fabulous straw hat. Which quickly went on someone else's head. I reminded her that this was like a competitive sport; grab first, think later. One of life's lessons learned.
A quick scan of the linen table (I wished I had stopped there earlier) turned up two souvenir bread warmers:
And then for some reason I can not explain I stuck these copper prints in my bag:
They're small (about 4" by 6") and oddly fascinating to me. At this point I realized I had likely jumped the shark, so I tucked my bag under my arm and headed home with TGT.
* After $340 is shaken out of my pockets. I should hope the car is OK at that point.