The weather this weekend was a bit deceiving– clear blue skies and cold(ish) wind. The garden is happy and growing though– our peas are starting to climb the fence, and a handful strawberries are starting to ripen. This weekend we went out in search of an estate sale out near the beach. Lots of little old lady sweaters, wool suits, big carved wood frames, gold-rimmed dishes and metal trunks. I came home mostly empty-handed though, except for some linens in perfect, ironed condition. Intern won’t like the idea of vintage old lady linens… but after a good wash, I plan to sneak them into rotation, and he’ll hopefully never notice! (Except of course, if he happens to read this post)
Oh January, I’d tell you to stop, but I don’t mean it. January so far has been the first month in many months that hasn’t involved daily sweater wearing. It is entirely possible that I’ve already forgotten the warm end of summer, and the warm start of fall, but I really do love January weather right now.
We went for a hike in the woods with our friends on Sunday, and the woods were like a jungle. Green and lush with flowers hiding around corners. We hiked (leisurely strolled) to the top of Mt Sutro, took in the view, and made plans for lunch. After our mild hike exertion, we rewarded ourselves with beers, fried peppers and shared sandwiches.
This might just be the best weather for a too-close-to-christmas birthday.
Intern had to work this weekend, which meant I had to find my own entertainment on Saturday. If I stayed home I would have done some house wifery like dishes, or folding napkins. Instead, I took myself to an estate sale (ok, actually 2 estate sales) and bought myself (I mean us) a wonderful and horrible (we have a lot of work to make it look amazing) dresser.
Your eyes are probably fixed on the pink floral wallpaper, but please, just peel them away and look at that tall drink of dresser right there, cream with gold trim and some crazy ornate handles. While Intern was working away at a coffee shop in the mission, I was frantically trying to figure out how I was going to jam (carefully place) this heavy well-priced find into our midsize junk-hauler (nice car we call Luigi). I bought it, slapped some blue tape with the word SOLD on it, and went home to alert the Intern. We’ve got some sanding and painting to do!
We sadly had to leave the sale without the matching monstrosity below (but it is a matching set!) because there is no way in hell I could have convienced Intern of the charm. I suspect there was also a matching bed at some point too, but some other sucker got to it first.
The gold and white dresser (of my dreams) was a hard sell, until I opened the drawers to show Intern the dovetail joints and thoughtfully designed sectioned compartments inside the drawers. Got him! I got him with promises of color-coordinated underpants and socks. Now we’ve got a huge-fun refinishing project to tackle, and I can’t wait to get started.
Went to a Friday estate sale, and found myself in possession of some old metal kitchen tools. I feel pretty proud of these little hoarded treasures, but I feel infinitely more proud of the following two finds.
One: an old collection of cocktail stir sticks from all over the country. I soaked them for a few hours to get the grim off, but I’m not sure if they’ll sure any more purpose beyond pure decoration on our bar cart. My favorite one is black and says in gold gothic lettering “Your father’s mustache.” Pretty good. I also found a near-perfect set of 4 gold trimmed champagne saucers. For a dollar each. I am bragging. I thought I would give these saucers as a gift, but quickly realized once I got them home… I am too much of a hoarder to share.
This weekend’s estate sale was incredibly, completely intense. And kind of amazing, but also overwhelming. I think I am fully cured of wanting that first hour first day estate sale experience. Then again, maybe I was just under-prepared and I’ll be ready for it next time.
The wallpaper alone in this sale was worth the crowd and the nervousness, because every.single.room was wallpapered in a delightfully weird pattern. There weren’t the usual sad parts at this sale, but maybe I didn’t notice because I was full of adrenalin.
There was pushing and yelling, and some competitive hoarding by the crowd of mostly male sale shoppers. I was beat out TWICE for a few items I spotted across a room (two metal bar carts!) by men who were grabbing things up and racing through the house with blue tape and sharpies. There was even an argument over a taxidermied baby alligator, but I was not apart of that particular situation. I was standing back and watching, probably with my mouth open.
I found a few treasures overlooked by those greedy antique dealers, including a handful of tarnished silver serving spoons and kitchen-y things, that are now all sparkly thanks to (this is where I start to brag about knowing a secret cleaning trick) a bath of hot water, baking soda, foil and salt. No scrubbing, no harsh chemicals either.
I picked up a few hardback books on gardening and cooking (both include newspaper clippings, and handwritten notes in the margins). I found a little book of funny cocktail recipes too. I do not plan to carry this purse-sized book in my purse, but the publisher actually suggests I should. In a box of crap no one else wanted, I found these golden ornaments. Christmas is going to be real elegant around here, now that we have these GOLD WALNUTS.
Quite possibly the best find of all was a stack of old cotton sugar sacks. Cotton sacks people! I think I’ll turn them into produce bags. I soaked them over the weekend in another secret non-toxic cleaning potion, and now they are fresh and white.
I felt gleeful walking away from that sale, and relieved to be getting out of there nearly two hours after I arrived. I’m just glad I wasn’t trampled. Oh, all my efforts of not being trampled or scammed were rewarded with a pile of reallyimportantuseful stuff for less than $30. I can stop any time I want to, but I do not want!