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The Junk Year in Review

December 27, 2011 | Comments (1)

This is the time of year when knowledgeable sages prepare their reviews of the past year. You know, best movies, books, plays. The time when we re-cap all the momentuous stuff that happened in the world. Well, if that’s what you want, better look someplace else. I know I should be taking stock of the past year; its ups and downs, highlights and lowlifes. Maybe something spiritually and morally uplifting. Seriously, me? Morally uplifting? Not so much. However, I did think it might be fun to share my junky triumphs of the past year with my readers. And maybe a few tribulations. Like the basement full of snake tanks at an estate sale I stumbled into this past fall. Or the cheeky Buckhead Betty who tried to yoink the little antique oak barley-twist table I’d stashed behind the cash table at a sale earlier in December. Nearly had to pull out the pepper spray on the bee-yotch. Or maybe you’d like to hear about the truly creepy North Carolina country junk shop crawling with hundreds of cats–and the vaguely Deliverance-ish vibe the owner of the place gave off. Or maybe hear me admit I paid $15 for a repro Mercury glass candlestick with the Pottery Barn label plainly visible on the bottom, had I but looked. Nah, let’s forget that sutff. Instead, here are some of the highlights, and some of my favorite junk finds of 2011.

Savannah Estate Sale

Early January found me nesting at The Breeze Inn on Tybee Island, to get some writing done. We had a freezing start to the New Year, but on that first weekend, my friends Diane and Susan and I found a great estate sale in Ardsley Park, a historic Savannah neighborhood of gracious old homes. The pros running the sale even put out a propane heater to keep the customers warm while we waited for the doors to open.

Loads of exquisite china, silver and antiques in dining room.

The sale was great, but I skipped over the pricey stuff and picked up mostly fun, funky stuff for my booth at Seaside Sisters.

Couldn't resist this sweet vintage straw hat.

At the February Scott’s Antique Market, I scored this adorable vintage wool child’s Little League shirt. Vintage children’s clothing in good condition are always scarce, probably because most of the time back in the day, clothes got handed down multiple times–until they were too worn out to save.

Old bench, new to me.

I spoke to an old friend’s book club last winter, and when it was over, she gave me this wonderful antique wooden bench that she’d inherited. Took it home, did a little wood-strip number on it, along with some very amateurish upholstery work, and now it has pride of place in our sun-room.

The Junk Posse Heads Out!

In March, members of my junk posse hit an estate sale in the far north suburbs, aimed only with our GPS and a willingness to hunt for treasures.

Vintage split-reed porch furniture

I nearly leapt from the moving car when I spotted this fabulous porch furniture. After some wheeling and dealing, it was mine. Had to get Mr. MKA to bring the truck to get it all home, and the peeling paint flakes left a tell-tale trail all the way down the interstate. But after some serious wire-brushing, power-washing and spray painting

How could I resist this vintage turquoise bowling shirt?

, it replaced the previous set of wicker furniture on the porch at The Breeze Inn. March found me back at the Scott’s Antique Market, and visiting various estate sales in and around Atlanta. I loved this bowling shirt, but since it was a size six, it got sold at Seaside Sisters.

Here's that old split-reed furniture, repainted and re-covered.

By April, we’d gotten the porch furniture ready to install at The Breeze Inn. The wicker furniture that had been there got sold within an hour of putting it out for sale at Seaside Sisters. It was a win-win swap.In May, I was cruising down my street in Atlanta when I spotted something sitting at the curb in front of a neighbor’s house. By the time I stopped the car and got out, two men were wrestling with the thing. Dejected, I asked them if they were taking the thing, but to my delight, they replied that they were actually putting it ON the curb. Then they offered to load it into my car! Ka-Ching! The thing turned out to be a vintage anesthesiology machine that had been in my late neighbor’s medical office. Despite Mr. MKA’s complete disbelief that anybody would want “that piece of crap,” I took it down to Seaside Sisters where it sold for about $125.

Also in May, we attended a fun golf outing in the North Georgia mountains, where my friend Jinxie and I shopped at a flea market where we spotted a first–headstones! We didn’t purchase one, but later in the day, at a shop in Cleveland, GA., I did buy this awesome (if cracked) vintage Nestea iced tea crock for $18.

In June? Well, June 6, my 18th book, SUMMER RENTAL came out, and I was off on book tour for most of the month, which remains a blur. I can remember being in Nag’s Head, when my editor called to tell me that we were Number 5 on the New York Times bestseller list. Not a lot of junking got done. But. . . wait. I was doing a signing at the fabulous Page & Palette Books a week or so later, when a fan told me about an estate sale going on in a nearby neighborhood. So I sweet-talked my book escort into doing a drive-by on the way back to my Mobile hotel room where I scored an excellent antique quilt top. See, linens are great for book tours, because you can just slide them into your luggage, not that being on book tour has ever deterred me from junking. In the summer of 2009, when I was on tour for THE FIXER-UPPER, I found the most amazing old wooden sign at a shop on the Jersey shore. I had to be back at my hotel and dressed for dinner with my agent within an hour, but I still managed to buy the sign and have it shipped home. Today, it has a place of honor at The Breeze Inn.

I never let a book tour get in the way of junking.

By July, I was back home (mostly) awaiting the birth of our first grandson, Griffin. But on the day he was due, I got so nervous waiting for him to be born, I took a quick trip down to Scott’s Antique Market before heading over to the hospital. Can’t remember what I bought that day, but the definite find of the day was our little man!

July 9, no junk, just a hunk o' love--John Griffin!

By August, I was off book tour and deep in the throes of trying to finish TFB (which stands for The Friggin’ Book). But somehow, this made me even more junk hungry.I ran away from home to write, all the way to the North Carolina mountain house of my friends Beth and Richard. Where I managed to use the carrot-and-stick rewards system. So many pages of writing in exchange for junking jaunts. Here’s the sweet child’s bentwood chair I found at a new honey hole. Also a tomato, because I ate lots of tomatoes bought from road-side stands.

On that trip, I found an honest-to-goodness treasure trove, The Depot at Gibson Mill, which is in Concord, N.C. Located in an old textile mill, the Depot is an antique mall of gargantuan proportions. Prices are good, and they have great stuff. Seriously great stuff.

Back home in September, I hit some really good estate sales, including the one where all the below treasures were discovered, including the vintage set of Pyrex mixing bowls with a book value of about $75–and I think I paid around $5.

Loads of goodies were unearthed at this Meemaw estate sale in Atlanta’s Virginia-Highlands neighborhood. I loved this old Black Flag atomizer, and put it in the Halloween display in my booth, where it sold pdq.

October was an excellent month for junking. At my friend Clay’s moving sale, I scored a great vintage metal dental cabinet, and also a bunch of great plaid blankets, picnic baskets and thermoses which made a great display in my booth.

This vintage dental cabinet sold shortly after it went into my booth.

I went mad for plaid in October at Seaside Sisters.

November brought a yard sale at my neighbor’s house a few doors down. I bought a great patio set and a cool old general store cubbie, but I was delighted at what she gifted me with–a vintage turquoise toy Tonka truck, which she’d rescued from her neighbor’s trash pile. I posted a photo of it on facebook, and a fan emailed me that she had the matching trailer for my truck–which she promptly sent me. I think I have the nicest readers in the world.

Love this turquoise Tonka truck.

And the junking didn’t stop just because the weather got cold in Atlanta. I hit a Meemaw estate sale of a hoarder, and found three holidays worth of loot–vintage Halloween masks and candles, an Easter basket, and some Christmas collectibles too, including a set of vintage plaid Mahoganite dishes.

Christmas came in early December with this estate sale!

So, yes, it was the best of times for junking in 2011. Also for book sales. I was in such a junky mood as Christmas  neared that I determined to gift members of the junk posse with upcycled estate sale treasures. (I prefer this term to re-gifted–all my recipients were told that I’d gleaned their gifts at sales.) Junker Jinxie is a retired school-teacher who collects children’s chairs. She got a sweet little antique bentwood oak chair found at an estate sale earlier in the year. Junker Suze loves nature, so she got a vintage-looking birdhouse picked up at a moving sale. Friend Shay and her husband joined us on a magical trip to Tuscany in 2010, so she got a gorgeous Tuscany coffee table book scored at a Buckhead moving sale, and friend Ellen got an amaryllis I forced and planted in an estate sale silverplate bowl. All the giftees also got paperwhites we forced ourselves. I wrapped everything with wide cotton ribbon found on clearance at Ballard’s Backroom. It made me  happy just looking at the display I set up in front of my Welsh cupboard.

Just a lil' Christmas sumthin' for the junk posse.

So, that’s my year in review. No revolutions in Egypt, no boring Iowa caucuses. Just junk, every month of the year. And may 2012 be just as junky!

Heart-warming Christmas Catastrophes

December 21, 2011 | No Comments

Stuff Happens...Especially at Christmas

Ah, Christmas. A time of crashing Christmas trees, flaming hair extensions and faux fruitcakes. A joyous season of drunken, rampaging in-laws, in-church flatulence, and eggnog-induced dinner disasters. In the spirit of Blue Christmas, (still available as a bargain-priced $1.99 ebook until Dec. 23) we asked for your best/worst Christmas catastrophes, and like the intrepid troopers you are, nearly a hundred of you opened your hearts and your memory banks to come up with some of the most compelling, embarrassing, hilarious, heart-breaking stories ever.

Truly, reading your stories, my cup runneth over. In fact, my cup of Diet Coke speweth from my nostrils in a most un-Nativity like manner.

Your holidays make the Griswold’s Christmas Vacation seem like a Perry Como special. Your stories made me pause and take time to reflect and take stock, this blessed holiday season. IS IT JUST ME? Are all of my readers really this messed up? I was troubled, dear readers, that some of you might be troubled enough to come over to my place and take a baseball bat to my car, as did one of the characters in one of the stories I read. So I had to reach deep down and ask myself: Do my books attract a special variety of dysfunctional whack job?

Cousin Eddie: Everybody's got one...

But I decided, nah. Everybody’s life has its lousy, awful, disgusting moments. Everybody has a variation on the creepy ex brother-in-law who shows up Christmas morning to hit on an innocent niece. Lots of people have dogs who scarf up 30 yeast rolls and then barf them up on the rug just before company arrives. And really, who hasn’t, as a child, clambered atop her brother’s shoulders and ferreted out every last hidden Christmas toy at the top of the closet and handed them out to their younger Santa-believing siblings while their parents were picking up Granny at the airport?

Of course, not everybody is like Mary Calhoun, who defied her grumpy father in an effort to surprise her terminally ill mother with a live Christmas tree, and in the process inadvertently set a crazed squirrel loose in the house. For that, Mary Calhoun, you win first prize, a vintage Eisenberg Ice blue Christmas tree pin just like the one in Blue Christmas.

This vintage Eisenberg ice Christmas tree pin could be yours!

And not just anybody has a story like Amanda Totino, who unknowingly gifted her fruitcake-loving Aunt Berta with a mail-order confection which just happened to be made of foam rubber. For that moment of thoughtfulness, Amanda, you win the reproduction blue rhinestone Christmas tree pin.

Peggy Nesbit, you won an autographed copy of BLUE CHRISTMAS  for your tale of the ‘60s-era hairpiece that ended up snagged in your suitor’s dinner jacket at the big Christmas formal. And Pennie Chase, you won an autographed BLUE CHRISTMAS for the not-so-funny story about the year your hubby believed all the bagged-up Christmas gifts were trash and thoughtfully took them to the curb for pick-up. Bridget Loprieato,  you won for your re-telling of the time your cranky granddad mistook the doggie treats for cocoanut candy. Alison Storaasli, because we loved the tale of your sister’s hair extensions being set aflame at the candle-light Christmas service, you get a book too. And Yvonne Jefferson? How could we not give you an autographed book? Your story about the long-ago South Georgia white Christmas when  your husband and father-in-law decided to thaw the frozen water pipes by starting a bonfire beneath the house—thus filling the old board house with enough smoke to cure a country ham left us—literally, with tears in our eyes.

Avoid future cat-astrophes...

As for the rest of you, please believe me when I say how much I enjoyed reading all your meaningful (and disturbing) stories. If I had a hundred prizes, you would all win one for your willingness to share. In the meantime, what I wish for you is a safe, loving, blessed, Merry Christmas. And just remember—don’t let the cat near the Christmas tree, and don’t leave the dog home alone. Take the plastic wrapping off the ham and the bagged-up gizzards out of the turkey before baking. Make sure your oven actually works before inviting the free world over for a big Christmas dinner. And always, no matter what, remember to smile. Because who knows? Maybe this year’s catastrophe is next year’s contest winner.

Merry Christmas, y’all!

Cake Day 2011

December 12, 2011 | No Comments

Pound cake ingredients all lined up

Yes, it’s cake day again. That merry, messy, sugary, achy-breaky back-achey marathon where I bake a dozen lemon cream cheese pound cakes to send my publishing peeps in New York. I’ve got my Christmas CDs playing: last year’s Glee Christmas album, Johnny Mercer, Frank Sinatra, and my all-time favorite, Phil Spector’s 1963 compilation album A Christmas Gift For You with the incomparable Darlene Love singing Christmas, Baby Please Come Home. If you don’t own this album, do yourself a favor and get it.

In case you missed my last year’s blogpost about this annual event, here’s a re-cap of how I got started.

A lifetime ago, when I was working as a reporter for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, I interviewed Atlanta food writer Shirley Corriher for an article, which, ironically, had nothing to do with food. I knew that Shirley was trained as a food chemist, and in the course of our interview, I asked her why my pound cakes always came out too dry. I recited the ingredients of the lemon cream cheese pound cake recipe I was using, which had been given to my sister Susie by another emergency room nurse at Grady Memorial Hospital. If we baked it as long as the recipe directed, it was too dry. Less time and it came out undercooked.”Hmm,” Shirley said. “Try this. Add another quarter cup of sugar. Stir in a quarter cup of vegetable oil. And add two extra egg yolks. Cut your oven temperature back to 325, and let it bake additional time.”

Et voila! A perfect, moist, amazing pound cake. Susie and I made pound cakes at Christmas. We made them at Easter, topped with strawberries and whipped cream, and for the Fourth of July, with peaches and blueberries. I took pound cakes to covered dish suppers and funeral luncheons. At one point, the recipe ran in the AJC’s food section. And at some fateful moment, I decided to bake a pound cake for my editor and agent, and ship them off to New York as Christmas gifts. The cakes were a hit. To my surprise, I discovered that “up north” pound cakes are considered something of a Southern regional specialty. The next Christmas, I added my agent’s assistant, my editor’s assistant, and my publicist to the list. Again, a hit. And so it began.

Every year, I would add somebody in New York to the Christmas cake list. The publisher, the head of marketing, the head of paperback marketing, the head of publicity, the people in library sales, the telereps in Scranton. Everybody who touched my books, basically, got a pound cake for Christmas. Or at least a share in the cake for their department. I’ll never forget the day my agent called with the news that polite hints were being dropped that I should bake cakes for the buyers at the big chain bookstores. Huh?

One Christmas, about five years ago, I woke up in a panic, realizing that my pound cake list had grown to 30. I’d gotten the cake-baking down to a science. I’d acquired four Bundt pans, and had figured out how to bake two cakes per shift. I’d hired my cleaning lady to assist on what I came to call “cake day”–separating eggs and measuring out the flour and other dry ingredients. On a good day, I could bake as many as ten cakes. And then have to take to the sofa with the Ibuprofen and heating pad. But 30 cakes? All of which had to be baked, wrapped, and hauled off to the UPS Store for shipping?

Boxes lined up for shipping

That was the year I caved in and began out-sourcing some of the baking to a small bakery in my neighborhood. It’s still my recipe, and the key people in the life of my book still get a pound cake baked by me personally, but at least now I can manage to face December without cringing. Last year I baked twelve out of the 28 pound cakes. And lived to tell about it, thanks to my amazing assistant Grace, who came to work on “cake day” even though she wasn’t feeling well. As soon as the cakes started arriving, excited emails began popping up in my in-box.

Nothin' says lovin' like sumthin' from the oven

“YUM” read the subject line in one typical missive. “Lemon cream cheese lusciousness” was how Meg described her cake. So it was totally worth doing. This year’s cakes are in the oven, and tomorrow is “shipping day.” Between baking cakes to send folks at both my new and old publishing houses, our kitchen is covered with flour—and I’ve already run out of sugar and cream cheese, plus I’ve gone through the crate of seven and a half eggs I bought at Costco. Boomerang Boy is hanging around the kitchen hoping one of the cakes will be too ugly to send off-which means he gets to cut into it. If you’ve got a yen for the perfect old-fashioned “Southern” pound cake, give this one a go.  Although, take my advice, and do NOT start sending these as Christmas gifts. Unless you have plans to open your own bakery

This year's cake ready to be shipped.

LEMON CREAM CHEESE POUNDCAKE

Turn off the phone and shut out any other distractions when making this cake. It’s a bit of work, but the results are definitely worth it. I usually bake two cakes at a time when I get started, one to serve (or give as a gift) and one to pop into the freezer. Since it’s such a large cake, you can always slice and serve half, and freeze the other half for later. Another note: the whipped egg whites mean the cake batter may spill over the edges of the pan, so make sure you have a large bundt pan–or place your pan on a cookie sheet to catch any overflow.

Preheat oven to 325. Spray bundt pan with floured baking spray

2-1/2 cups unsalted butter

1 8-oz. pkg. cream cheese

¼ cup vegetable oil

3-1/4 cups granulated sugar

5 egg whites

7 egg yolks—yes, this means you’ll discard the two extra egg whites unless you’ve got plans for ‘em.

1 tsp. lemon extract

1 tsp. vanilla

3 cups cake flour

¼ tsp. salt

Beat five egg whites until stiff and set aside

In mixing bowl, beat together butter, cream cheese and vegetable oil. Add in sugar and cream well. Beat in lemon extract and vanilla. Add egg yolks one at a time and beat well. In smaller bowl combine flour and salt, beat into batter, adding flour mixture by thirds. Fold in beaten egg whites, pour into prepared bundt pan and bake for approximately 1 hour and 30 minutes—check for doneness with wooden toothpick. Let cool 5 minutes, then remove from pan onto cooling rack and finish cooling. Wrap tightly with plastic wrap or store in large ziplock bag for freezing. You may choose to add a lemon glaze, made wi

Christmas at The Breeze Inn

December 4, 2011 | Comments (1)

A frosty wreath and vintage aqua ornaments in mercury glass bowl on chest by front door.

Mr. Mary Kay and I took a quick trip down to Tybee last week to get The Breeze Inn decorated for our Christmas guests. We don’t overload the house because it’s small, and we want to keep it uncluttered, but each year I try to come up with a Blue Christmas-y look. This year we added the wreath to the rattan mirror above the chest, and I piled some estate sale aqua glass balls in a mercury glass bowl.

My version of a Blue Christmas tree.

I picked up a four-foot pre-lit tree at Target along with all these trimmings, and was thrilled with how nice it looks. I topped it with a glittery hot pink star. Found a box of 50 blue, aqua and silver ornaments, and added it, along with some strings of hot-pink beads.All the ornaments are actually plastic, although they look like glass, so if one gets dropped, no heartache for our guests. The tree sits on a rattan table in front of the bookshelves in the living room. I wrapped a piece of vintage lime-flowered barkcloth around the plastic base of the tree.

On Tybee, Santa gets around on a vintage bike!

I scored this vintage white bike at Scott’s antique market last summer, and then wrapped the frame with blinking white mini-lights. That was the most time-consuming chore of the week. Mr.Mary Kay is in charge of lights and the faux evergreen garland. He did a great job, don’t you think?

All ready for Christmas.

The nice part about our decorations is that after the holidays, they can all be popped in a big bin and stored in the attic until next year. Now, I just have to get our house in Atlanta decorated. Mr. MKA is way ahead of me. The outside lights are up, the tree is in the house and lit up, now the rest of it is up to me. Stay tuned for pix of our Blue Christmas coming later this week–along with a very cool contest.

Comfort Food Contest…We Have a Winner!

November 3, 2011 | No Comments

Well, I think I gained 10 lbs just reading all the amazing entries in my fall contest. In exchange for the chance to win an autographed copy of Paula Deen’s Southern Cooking Bible, I asked you to tell me your favorite comfort food. Boy did I get a ton of feedback! In fact, with nearly 350 entries, this was my most popular contest ever. And the entries were so varied. Hands down the most votes overall came in for mac & cheese and there were also plenty of votes for other old standbys like meatloaf with mashed potatoes, fried chicken, and chili. But there were also nods to soups and stews, cakes and brownies, cheesy grits and country fried steak. I heard several cries for “anything chocolate” and “anything pumpkin.” Popcorn and venison each also got a mention. Who knew?

I loved hearing from those of you who wrote in about old family recipes, like Alison, who told me about how her family all knew it was a special night when her Mo-Mo got out the big stock pot and her rolling pin to whip up her famous chicken and dumplings. Terri wrote in about how her grown children still beg her to make “Mawmaw’s Mac and Cheese,” Julie told me about “porcupine meatballs” (a new one on me). I think I need to try Jill’s grouper chowder even though my husband does not run a charter fishing business like hers does. It made my heart glad (and arteries clog) to hear about regional delicacies like Pennsylvania Dutch potato filling, Cajun gumbo, and Eastern Carolina oyster stew.

A special thanks to those of you who actually sent me your recipes too! Like Shirley who sent me her mother’s recipe for stuffed peppers and Sandra for the delish sounding recipe for smoked sausage and white bean soup. When I polish those off I’m gonna try Corinne’s squash soup. There were many more that I will need to print out and keep on file. Oh, boy, does Mr. MKA have some treats in store for him this fall.

Without further ado, the winner is Jessica Dixon from Petoskey, MI who told me all about her grandmother’s cinnamon rolls whose “smells wrapped around us like a warm blanket.” Well, pass ‘em over here! Congrats, Jessica! Miss Paula will send your book out to you in a jiffy. Thanks to all who entered. And thanks, as always, for your support and enthusiasm. Y’all are the best. Love, MKA

Fall Newsletter & Paula Deen Giveaway!

October 26, 2011 | No Comments

Hey. So my fall newsletter just went out. Are you signed up to receive it? If not, enter your e-mail address under “Newlsetter Signup” on the right side of my homepage so you can be sure to get all future issues. I send out about 3 or 4 a year–I’m not an in-box clogger! If you didn’t get the latest issue, you can read it here. Since fall is all about comfort food, I am sharing my son’s favorite dessert recipe with you: “Boomerang Boy’s Apple Crisp.” For my latest contest, I am asking you to tell me about your all-time favorite comfort food. Just shoot us an e-mail at meg@marykayandrews.com with “Paula Deen Giveaway” in the subject field and tell us what down-home, stick-to-your-ribs goodness melts away your stresses and gives you the warm-and-fuzzies. Since my friend Paula Deen is the undisputed queen of comfort food, it makes sense that the prize for this contest comes from her.

win a signed copy!

Paula has generously agreed to send an autographed copy of her brand new book (Paula Deen’s Southern Cooking Bible) to the lucky winner I choose at random. So, speak up. Let me know what you whip up when there’s a chill in the air and you need that no-place-like-home feeling. Good luck! And happy fall, y’all!

My Little Runaway

August 5, 2011 | Comments (1)

Next summer’s book is due. Like, now. But life was closing in on me. So I ran away. This time I went to the mountains of North Carolina, to my friend Richard and Beth’s house. I left home on Sunday. Remember the cruise of the Good Ship Minnow? A three-hour tour? Mapquest said my trip would take five hours, fifty minutes. Hah! They forgot to figure in junkin’ time. I’d been wanting to check out a junk honey hole called , The Depot at Gibson Mill in Concord NC. No matter that it would take me 45 miles out of my route. The depot was fabulous! An old Cannon textile mill given over completely to junk/antiques! I gave myself an hour to shop and only hit a small portion of the building. Still, I managed to drop some bucks–all in the name of my booth at Seaside Sisters. My favorite find was this lovely quilt made of old feed sacks, with a backing of mattress ticking.

Feedsack quilt with backing of mattress ticking from the Depot. Love!

No fancy quilting, it’s a utility quilt made with a fine eye for color and composition. I posted pix on Facebook and a couple of alert readers told me it’s the string pattern. As I pulled away from the depot, I wanted to pull an Arnold Swarzenegger and whisper, “I’ll be back.” Instead, I steered toward my true destination. After a quick grocery stop, I easily found the mountain house. Which is delightful. Tucked away outside a tiny town in the northwest corner of the state, it’s a crazy combination of masculine/mountain with French country. The scenery near the house is lovely. A closed-down country store, an alluring barn/garage, the most adorable carpenter gothic house, nestled into the valley with the green hazy mountains looming behind.

If these walls could talk...carpenter gothic house in NC mtns.

Makes me wish I were a real photographer. Beth is my sister from another mother. We met just as I was moving back to Atlanta after a three-year stay in Raleigh. She loves antiques–of course, she loves the very fine, expensive, French and English real, true antiques, which she sells through her business, Knick-Knack Paddywack. I love that stuff too, I just can’t really afford it. She loves to travel–I love to travel. She loves going to the theatre, I love the theatre. She has an master’s in English lit, I do not, but I’ve been known to write. And most importantly, she drinks Diet Coke for breakfast. She completes me. We’ve done junking trips to Europe and a couple to Brimfield, and I expect we’ll try to fit another trip in sometime soon. After I finish this next friggin’ book. In the meantime, I’ve been puzzling out the big problems of TFB. But today, I needed a break. I told myself I was going to town for groceries. But really, I needed to junk. I found an antique mall with a trio of good ol’ boys settin’ around talking about cars, and cruised into the windy maze of booths.

Closest thing to Wally's Gas Station. Gomer sez' fill 'er up!

The clock was ticking–again, I’d only given myself an hour. As always, I had to wade through a lot of true junk–meaning anything I don’t like or collect or buy or sell. Repro tin gas station signs. Precious Moment figurines. Coins. Weapons. Nascar shite. (It’s North Carolina) ’80s crap-ola. Finally, I found a booth where they were singing my song. A sweet chippy white child’s bentwood chair.

Still life with child's chair, 'mater and rose

A toy stove.

Too hot to cook. Even on this retro toy stove.

An old wood grocery crate turned into a toolbox. I went to pay and found a huge painted white rotary fan at the cash register. Ka-ching! After I got back to the house, I went back to work. I’d had a late lunch, so I only stopped to eat at dusk. And to take pix of my finds for you. Even in the mountains, it’s hot. This house doesn’t have air conditioning, and in the mornings and evenings, it’s cool enough that it doesn’t need it. But in late afternoon, it gets a little toasty. I plugged in my new fan, and it works like a dream.

Too darn hot. Vintage rotary fan to the rescue.

I considered cooking, but it was too hot. Instead, I sliced up an heirloom tomato I bought in town, drizzled it with a little olive oil, sea salt and balsamic vinegar, and washed it down with my favorite wine of the summer, a yummy rose Mr. MKA buys for me. It’s called Angel’s Whisper. Sounds like a book title, yes?