Close Cover Before Striking


All in a weekend’s junking

For a brief, shining moment this week, I thought I was done with TFB. (The Friggin’ Book.) Then came a phone call Friday, from my editor, and a six-page edit letter explaining what further trimming and tweaking is needed for the manuscript in ROUND TWO. Ah well. Another opportunity for greatness, right? In between, editorial discussions, I managed to sneak in a little junking at a couple of estate sales and this month’s Scott’s Antique Market.

Posse member Susie and I did a quick sweep at Scott’s on Thursday, which is set-up day. I spied this stuffed wolf, or is it a coyote? peeking out of a dealer’s van.

Taxidermy coyote? peeking out of van at Scott’s Market

The only thing I bought was a vintage cabinet card of a solemn little boy dressed in a sailor suit. I was so struck by his charm that I immediately went home and scored four more little sailor children from eBay and Etsy. They’ll either join this lil’ fella in our nautical bedroom at The Breeze Inn, or make a collection at my booth at Seaside Sisters. I do love a theme, ya know–which is why I have dozens of vintage beach and bathing suit photos scattered around the Breeze and my booth. In fact, I bought a few more little black and white beach snaps to add to the goodness in the booth.


A solemn little sailor boy
On Friday, Mr. Mary Kay made a rare outing to an estate sale with me. He was looking for a power tool for an upcoming construction project at the Breeze, but the tool that was advertised was not the right thing. Still, he was surprisingly patient while I cruised through the sale. I did manage to snag a pair of scrolly wrought iron planter thingies, but the big buy of the day was a set of 16 vintage Griffith’s milk glass spice jars. After some research on eBay I was thrilled to learn that I’d snagged a rarity–16–and they all have their original paper labels intact. They are going right to my booth!

Despite my vow to stay home and work this morning, I caved and went back to Scott’s. But hey, I got home by noon. I did a fast tour of the outdoor dealers and got a neat pre-1960s globe, a vintage framed Girl Scout photo (Girl Scouts were founded in Savannah, you know), and the best buy of the day, an old jar with wire bail handle, full of old matchbook covers. I had the best time sorting through them when I got home. There are several covers for Atlanta area hotels and restaurants, including one from a furniture store that was located right in my little bitty town, as well as covers from Ohio, California and New York. But the best one of all–this little beauty, which is apparently an ad for uh, “social responsibility”. Love the graphics and the slogan–“You’re no MATCH…Don’t get Burned…Use Cover. And the flip side? “…for V.D. NO IS THE BEST TACTIC…The Next Prophyactic.” Couldn’t have said it better myself!


Don’t get burned…or VD!

Chairish is the word I use to describe

The Goldilocks approach to junking for chairs

Yes, I know I should have stayed home this morning to finish what my agent and I have come to call TFB–a mysterious acronym for The Friggin’ Book. Only we use a very bad word instead of friggin’. But I stayed home yesterday, ignoring the call of several promising estate sales. And I worked very, very hard all week long, trying to finish revisions of TFB. And I swear, I am this close. But all work and no junking makes MKA a very cranky girl. So posse member Shay and I saddled up and set out this morning for an estate sale in Buckhead, run by Vicki. We love Vicki’s sales, because she gets down to business. Vicki greeted me this morning with the news that she liked the sex scenes in LITTLE BITTY LIES, which she’d just finished reading at the beach, which made us both giggle like naughty school-girls. We traded some more naughty gossip, and then I got down to junking. My first purchase was the little wicker boudoir chair above. Later I found the fun green butterfly chair in the garage. My parents had a pair of those when I was a kid in the ’60s, in a hip orange, so I was happy to find this ‘lil green butterfly, which will join the wicker chair at my booth at Seaside Sisters. I was getting ready to check out when I spotted a trunk which Vicki had just unearthed. Digging around inside, I came up with the adorable plush baby blanket from the ’50s, which is in new condition. And then I found the fun chenille high school letters. Remembering our naughty talk, I suggested that somebody could pin those letters on their sweater and tell everybody they lettered in ‘SLUT’ in high school. Immediately, I realized this is a line I could use in my new book–so you see, junking is a valuable creative outlet for writers. At least that’s what I tell myself. We motored on to another sale, which was a bust, except that it’s always fun to see estate sale ladies like Ann and Dell and Myrtice. And at the last sale of the day, I struck gold with this primo newly slipcovered wing chair. It’s done in great beachy blue stripes and looks like it just came from a showroom. Yay me! If I could find a spot in The Breeze Inn for this lovely, I would, but I think we’ve got a gracious plenty of chairs there, so this puppy will be heading down to my Seaside Sisters booth next weekend. And in the meantime, I’ll have it to “chairish” for at least a week, until I send this and my other treasures off to worthy new homes. Also, now that my creative juices have been re-filled, I’ll just finish TFB.

We Interrupt this Blog

MKA’s McGyvered Manuscript

News bulletin. Your erstwhile blogger is in revision hell. She is overdue, cranky, pathetically needy. Her newest novel is printed out, its chapters scattered all over her sunroom floor, with giant post-it notes telling her what those chapters are trying to accomplish. Her characters are balking at letting their story go, and her editor, up there in New York, is tapping her foot impatiently, beating out a Morse code-like message that seems to say ‘FINISH THE DAMNED BOOK, ALREADY.’ In short, your correspondent is not herself.


The curb sofa that got away

How do we know this? Because she missed out on this super-swell curbside bonanza 1940s sofa this week. Can you believe it? She walked past it, photographed it with Mr. Mary Kay’s cellphone, then strolled home and waited a fateful twenty minutes or more before going back to pick it up in the family truck. Of course, by the time she got her rear in gear and got back there, another neighborhood scavenger was already loading said sofa in her vehicle. Sob. So yes, dear reader, this is what I do, the sacrifice I make for art. Be assured, however, that the revisions are underway, and I intend to make those pesky characters toe the line. Because there’s an estate sale Friday, and there’s a limit to what one poor author can endure.

Junk Throwdown Winners

Wow! After my junk buddy Sue from Vintage Rescue Squad joined me for a junk throwdown at Scott’s Antique Market a couple weeks ago, we invited y’all to guess whose haul was whose. Guess we must be pretty predictable, because just about everybody was able to connect the dots. If you were not correct, or didn’t guess, my haul was A–the $10 bar cart and 3 blue Ball jars with zinc tops for $10, and Sue’s was the vintage basketball poster and dominoes. By divine intervention (meaning I asked Mr. Mary Kay to give me a random number) the winner of my The Fixer Upper beach basket o’ goodness is Mona Kay from Creating A Vintage Life.
Sue, despite a vicious case of poison ivy, managed to do a random drawing and chose Angie at http://www.fabulousthriftyfinds.blogspot.com/ as the recipient of her big box o’ emphera.
Thanks everybody, for playing along, and be sure to watch next time for our interstate spelling bee and trivia fest. (Kidding, although I’m thinkin’ she’d probably whoop my azz at spelling, since she was an English major, although I might give her a run for her money with trivia, since my so-called brain is a goldmine of useless information.)

A Junker’s Sunday


Beat-up yard-sale dresser and cane bench–before

Buying junk is a lark–usually. But if you’re buying junk for re-sale, ya gotta ‘purty’ it up. After my Saturday junk-o-rama with the girls, I got up at the ungawdly hour of 7 a.m. to try to beat the heat with my painting projects. By 8 a.m. I was at Home Depot, and by 9, I’d prepped my treasures and started painting. Job 1 was this cute little Eastlake dresser I bought at a yard sale Saturday. Had to wash it down and get rid of decades of dog hair and cobwebs, same thing for the cute little cane-top bench atop the dresser. After spray-priming both pieces, I got busy painting. A beach glass enamel for the dresser, and a Krylon spray paint for the bench–color is called Pistachio. After that, I tackled the battered wicker trunk I bought at my neighbor’s yard sale on Friday. I gave it a spritz of spray primer, and then dabbed on watered-down white latex paint with a sponge applicator. After that, I decided to jazz it a little bit, and stencilled it with some stencil letters I picked up at the Depot. I’m delighted with the way this turned out! Then, while the larger pieces were drying, I spray painted the two sailboat what-not shelves I picked up at a junk shop in Hartwell, Georgia last week while I was holed up at a friend’s borrowed lake house, working on revisions of Summer Rental. Hey, you can’t work all day, every day! Funny, the shelves were in two different parts of the shop, painted two different fugly colors. I gave ’em a coat of Krylon True Blue, and now I think they’re set for a beach house or a little boy’s bedroom.


Pair of sailboat what-not shelves–as found in Hartwelll, Ga.
Decoupaged pages from a South Carolina atlas

Finally, I decided to pimp the dresser a little more, by decoupaging the inside of the drawers with pages torn from an old South Carolina road atlas. For this, I just watered down some Elmer’s white glue, and slicked it on both sides of the map pieces. I was so happy with the way the whole project turned out, I decided to autograph it like I do my books. Sweet, huh? Let me tell you, Mr. Mary Kay was pretty impressed when he got home from his morning of sweaty golf. Me? I’m covered, smothered, spattered and flattered–and ready to hit the shower and the hay. ‘Cuz niece Sarah says we gotta walk again in the morning. Lawd!


The finished line-up. Tired but happy!

Street Cred

The early bird gets the worm, right? This morning, even before the buttcrack o’dawn, my niece Sarah, who is living with us this summer, dragged me out of the house for our dreaded morning walk. So I dragged my middle-aged (okay, who am I kidding? Unless I plan to live into my hundreds, I am officially no longer middle-aged) azz around our ‘hood for an hour.

It was stinking hot and humid, and by the time we got back to our block, I was drenched in sweat and smelled like a refugee from the goat rodeo. But as a reward for my clean living and devotion to a healthy lifestyle,we stumbled (and I do mean stumbled) upon my neighbor a few doors down setting up her yard sale. Well, quicker than you can say HOLY HABANERO, BATMAN!, I’d selected the two wicker chairs you see here, the piano stool, and the wicker basket. All this by 7:30 a.m. Sweet, huh?
The wicker chairs are really, really old, very heavy, and they have some damage. If I can’t get ’em fixed, I might whack off the backs (which is where the damage is) and make them into stools, complete with flirty little seat cushions with a short ruffle. For $10 apiece, I figure, you can never go wrong with old wicker,right?

In less than 30 minutes I managed so spend $60 for everything, including the little shabby chic bowl on stand, which I think will look cute heaped with bleached-out seashells. All of these treasures are destined for my booth at Seaside Sisters on Tybee Island. And now? I think it’s time for a nap.Us middle-aged types need to rest up for the Saturday sales.

A Junk Throw-Down–and a Giveaway!

When my junk-buddy Sue of Vintage Rescue Squad told me she was heading down Atlanta-way last weekend and wanted to shop at Scott’s Antique Market, we both knew it was inevitable–a junker’s throw-down. We met for breakfast, traded gossip and tales of estate sale victories, and then took off for Scott’s. In the parking lot, we set the rules–a $20 bill (more or less)–and whoever got the best deals would win the contest. Did I mention it was Africa hot that day? I think my flip-flops melted to the asphalt in the parking lot of the North Building. We also applied our super-cool VINTAGE tattoos, which Sue gifted us with. We started with the outdoor vendors, because they’re the ones who sell the kind of junk Sue and I salivate over.


The challenge is issued, and Sue immediately talks smack



Being the seasoned pro she is, (she has two booths in antique shops in Virginia), Sue struck first, at 9:06 a.m. with an outsized letter “S” made from old tin ceiling tiles.


9:06 a.m. First blood–Sue’s “initial” buy.

A few minutes later, we were met by blogger buddy Linda, http://ljm-alacarte.blogspot.com/ and after a quick stroll through the inside dealers in the North Building, we headed over to the South Building. I found my first treasures from a dealer who had a trove of gorgeous old flags and vintage bunting. He sold me 3 five-yard pieces for $20. Those, my friends, are destined to decorate our house next Fourth of July. While I was perusing the rest of his booth, Sue wandered over and made a score too. Which meant I had to counter with another $10 purchase. We parted ways for a bit, and I found another great treasure, for $10. As soon as Sue saw it, she threatened to arm-wrestle me for it, but too late, the deal was sealed. By then, we were swooning from heat exhaustion, and were happy to make our way inside the air-conditioned comfort of the South Building. Of course, I had to take Sue over to meet my junk buddy Lulu Redstar. Lulu always has the coolest vintage stuff, not to mention her gorgeous junk jewelry which she crafts from vintage and antique findings. Sue bought some of Lulu’s stuff, and I bought a hilarious 1931 publication called The Sorority Handbook. Good stuff!



Lulu Redstar and Vintage Sue bond over junk jewelry

We shopped and gossiped and chatted with some of my other favorite dealers, and had lunch–Uncle Woody’s excellent chicken salad, before I had to shove off for other committments. I think I speak for all three of us when I say a good time was had by all.



Haul A



Haul B

Now, here’s where y’all come in. We’re posting pix of our $20 (more or less) junk throwdown stuff. Leave us a comment right here or here, telling us whose junk is whose. Sue’s or Mary Kay’s? We’ll pick a winner from the correct guesses, and Sue and I will each award a prize–Sue’s is a vintage cigar box full ‘o ephemera, mine is a beachy basket complete with monogrammed Breeze Inn beach towel, autographed copy of The Fixer Upper, go-cups and more. Deadline is Saturday, July 24.

Small Town Fourth of July


Molly and Mr.MK let the parade pass them by

Here in the small town we call home, holidays are celebrated with a large amount of gusto.
We actually observed the Fourth of July on the Third this year. The day started with ham biscuits and bloody Mary’s at our friends Susie and Dave’s–because they live at the end of our town’s parade route. This was Molly’s first Fourth, but she had a great time. Her Mom and Dad arrived at our house dressed in their true colors and ready to party. Of course, Molly was the real star of the show.


Katie, Mark and Molly with Vintage Uncle Sam
Our parade is strictly a homemade affair. This was a pirate float created by an outfit calling
themselves the Atlanta Pirate and Wench Club. They seemed to be having a great time trying to invade the ‘dale.


Pirates and wenches invade the ‘dale
It ain’t exactly the Rose Bowl Parade. Kids on bikes, parents in silly get-ups, more kids, riding battery-operated kiddie cars, lots of dogs being walked. Hijinks and tomfoolery are the trademarks of the day, and everybody who wants to gets into the act.


Patriot sword-fights intergalactic enemies
The community club throws theme parties once a month, and has since the 1920s, when our neighborhood was built. This year’s float had a tropical theme, and since parties are what the club’s about, they even had a battery-operated blender whirling up tasty adult beverages.

Community club float celebrates in style
At Susie and Dave’s house, we noshed on breakfast treats, including homemade zucchini muffins made from Susie’s bounteous garden, not to mention the aforementioned bloody marys. Many of these were provided by neighbor Billy, who thoughtfully sets up a full-fledged adult beverage stand at the edge of Dave’s driveway, to help out parched parade-goers. Then we set up our own lawn chairs, quilts and blankets to watch the passing spectacle. Some people provide more spectacle than others, but then, isn’t that one of our founding freedoms? The freedom to be silly?


A one-man band plays to his own tune
Afterwards, my family strolled home to begin preparations for our own get-together, a fried chicken covered dish supper for about 20 friends and neighbors. My sister-in-law Jeanne fried chicken for four hours, and we whomped up some ‘tater salad, devilled eggs, and “trailer trash”–which is another silly thing–ice cream sandwiches covered with Cool Whip and drizzled with hot fudge and butterscotch sauce. While Jeanne was frying chicken, I gussied up the dining room table with an antique quilt top and a folk art Uncle Sam made from vintage fabric and sparkler box. When dinner was over, we loaded up our pickup truck with the lawn chairs, and rode a few blocks down the street to the lake, where we set up camp to watch the fireworks, accompanied by a local orchestra. The music was great, the fireworks were awesome, the company superb. Best of all? Molly, not yet one, turns out to love fireworks! She laid back in her daddy’s lap, and enjoyed the show along with about a thousand other neighbors. All in all, a perfect day in a small town like ours.

Uncle Sam Guarantees our Freedom to Dine!

Boyz in the hood–chillin’ before fireworks

Retail Rationalization


Pair of ’50s vintage signed bird paintings

Back in the days when I we were penniless newlyweds, I started playing a game most women play. If I took my lunch to work, saving $3, then I would rationalize that I had $3 extra to spend on a whim, say, at a yard sale or junk shop. Or, if I used Sunday’s leftover roast chicken for a casserole later that week, that meant I had $5 to spend on a new lipstick. My shopaholic friend Paula helped me refine and hone my retail rationalization skills while I was a reporter at The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. At least once a week we would make a lunchtime pilgrimage to our dear, now departed, Rich’s Department Store, and our favorite spot, the fifth floor, home of the late, lamented Finale on Five Clearance Center. At Finale, items were marked down on the 1st and 15th of every month, and the longer the item stayed on the floor, the deeper it was discounted. Ah, the happy hours we spent there, trolling for bargains. I still have fond memories of the cute turquoise two-piece outfit I bought there for….90 cents? after it languished on the sale racks until it was discounted 90 percent off. Paula and I devised a strategy. If it fit, and the price was amazing, we would look at each other, shrug, and say “Jesus wants me to buy this.”
We all do this, right? After I began writing fiction, my retail rationalization took on a new form. If I gave a speech and earned an honorarium, that money, unlike the money I earn from writing books, was destined to be “Fun Money”. The antique secretary I showed on a recent post? That was bought with fun money from a speech. Recently, I flew down to the Florida Panhandle for a signing at Sundog Books in Seaside. Lovely store, by the way. You should definitely schedule a vacation at Seaside just to shop at Sundog, where customers are welcome to bring their canine companions to shop. Lots of times when I’m on tour, I rent a car to get around. But this time, my publisher had arranged for a car service to pick me up at the airport and deliver me to the airport. The only problem with this? It would mean my junking opportunities would, theoretically, be limited. Notice I said “theoretically?”. Fortunately, I had a junk stop in mind: Smith’s Antique Mall in Destin. And my driver was happy to drop me off for a little retail therapy. I strolled around, happy as a pig in mud. I’d been to Smith’s many times before when our family, along with several other families, spent spring break at nearby Grayton Beach. At Smith’s, I paused before a pair of striking ’50s paintings of tropical birds. I seem to have a thing for tropical birds. And this pair was big, and lovely, and signed. They seemed to call to me: “Take me to Tybee. Take me to Tybee.” They were reasonably priced, plus, by asking nicely, I got a ten percent discount. Hmm. The retail rationalization began to kick in. But I wavered. And then I remembered, I had a nice fat check coming from the “Big Azz Attic Sale” I’d held at Seaside Sisters back in June. I actually purged my basement and attic and sold lots of stuff I’d been hoarding. So, really, look at all the money I’d saved. Those paintings were meant to be mine. Right? And I did have all that “fun money” rolling in. Right? Retail Rationalization at its finest. And for our next lesson in Retail Rationalization? Watch for “My husband spent $600 on a new putter–so I deserve to spend that much on my stuff.”

Junk From My Trunk

A summerized antique secretary

My writer buddy Margaret Maron emailed Sunday to gently chastise me, asking why I hadn’t blogged lately. Who me? I’ve been to Kentucky and back, worked on the manuscript for the new book. (And no, it’s still not done!)Entertained old friends for dinner Saturday night, did a little babysitting for Molly–who rewarded me by barfing in my car. Just your typical boring old week. So, here, for Margaret, and for anybody else who is interested, is a round-up of the weekend’s junking adventures. Sadly, I did not get to do any junking in Kentucky, because I did not have a car at my disposal. Instead, I locked myself up in my hotel room in Louisville, and worked on the stinking manuscript. I know, pity party, right?

But I did get home shortly after noon Thursday, which meant I had plenty of time to hot-foot it over to Vicki’s sale in Morningside, another of my favorite Atlanta in-town junking neighborhoods. I found an oil painting of the beach that I really liked, but at $300, it was too pricey. Instead, I settled on a primitive painting on board of a boathouse/stilt-house, which somebody at the sale suggested might be by a Key West artist. The signature on it looks like Ray. Or something. Anyway, I like it, and think it would be a fun addition to the back porch at The Breeze Inn. If not, it can always go in my booth at Seaside Sisters.


Beachy painting, headed down to Tybee

I also found a pair of vintage-looking silver pheasants. Mr. Mary Kay enjoys pheasant hunting, and since I already had a pair of antique silver hunting dogs, which I display on the Welsh Cupboard in our dining room, I thought they might like to join the dogs there. Sort of my own little joke, you know? Pheasants, bird dogs, dining room? Okay, it’s a really, really inside joke. At the same sale, for $3, I scored a brand new autographed copy of Bon Appetit, Y’all, a southern cookbook by Atlanta chef and food writer Virginia Willis, who is a friend of friends. Can’t wait to start trying recipes.


Pheasants, platters, dining room–get it?

On Saturday morning, Katie and I scooted over to a yard sale run by another old food writer friend from my AJC days. Lots of interesting stuff there, but we had Molly, and Katie had a tennis match to get to, so I only managed snag a white and red enamelware pot for $4, a vintage hammered aluminum lidded dish for $3, and a bunch of vintage paper Japanese lanterns, bringing me up to my total of $8.

Japanese lanterns for a little girl’s first birthday

After the sale, I spent some quality time cleaning up Molly, who then settled in for a long nap, allowing me to do some house-fluffing. I rearranged the stuff in the antique secretary in my living room. The secretary is a favorite piece of mine, bought at the Charlotte Metrolina antique market with my friend Mary, using money from an honorarium from giving a speech. Last year, with my friend Clay’s help, we styled it up by backing the shelves with cardboard covered with some blue and white fabric I had lying around in my stash. Then I arranged some seashells and some pieces of ironstone, and voila! Instant summer.

As for the stuff from the Saturday sale? I’ll plop a red geranium in the pot and use it in my Fourth of July table-setting, the aluminum dish may be a gift for a friend who just started collecting the stuff, and the paper lanterns? There are a total of 20 of them, and I think they might make a fun addition to Molly’s upcoming first birthday party. I hung a few from one of my dining room chandeliers, just to check out the look, and I kinda likey. They have that Teahouse of the August Moon vibe, doncha think? Oh yeah, I just happened to find a copy of the book in the secretary, while I was arranging it, probably picked up for 50 cents at a long-forgotten sale.
And that’s my glamorous, thrill-packed week. Aren’t you glad you asked, Margaret?

A little inspiration, perhaps?