Junk Overdose

I’ve been a very bad blogger, I know. But there are reasons. I was writing. I was junking. I was baby-sitting Molly. I took a trip. But I’m back now, and I’ve missed you and hope you missed me. To make it up to you, I’ll tell you about my very junky weekend.

Extended weekend, really. We went out to Scott’s Antique Market Thursday, roamed around and had a jolly old time. I picked up a wicker-wrapped bottle for my booth at Seaside Sisters on Tybee–or maybe for me. Also a trio of vintage German seashell prints. And some sea fans–again for me. I am changing out my living room for a spring/summer beachy feel.

On Friday, after writing a little, off I went again, this time with junk posse member Jinxie, for a couple of estate sales. The first one was in Buckhead, and run by one of our favorite dealers, Vicki. I scored a great shabby chic aqua painted potting table–which will go to Seaside Sisters. Also a funky little upholstered loveseat, for $20, which will probably stay here until I figure out where she is headed. And I scored a pink Pyrex casserole dish, sans lid, but it’ll be perfect for the booth. At the next sale, run by another favorite dealer, Myrtice, I found a sweet pinwheel quilt in decent condition, and a funky vintage turquoise bowling shirt–it has “Gloria” embroidered over the breast pocket. I’d keep it for myself, except Gloria was apparently a six four, the little bee-yatch.

And then, I met two more friends and we journeyed back down to Scott’s. Again. I know, it was a junk overdose. We had a splendid time catching up, and I snagged some more excellent treasures for the booth, including a vintage flamingo-painted mirror with mirrored frame–those always sell in a snap, and a pair of funky porcelain parrots, which would make adorable lamps. And a pair of beachy pastel lime green and pink needlepoint pillows. Am a sucker for needlepoint.

That should be enough junk for any normal being–but I never claimed to be normal. Back out again I went this morning, with Katie, for a neighborhood-wide sale a couple miles away. Small wicker table, cute wooden Paris bistro set–the chairs are rickety, but I think Mr. MKA can fix. And then–I spotted a Sanford & Son look-alike truck cruising slowly down the street–its bed piled high with junk scavenged from the streetwide clean-up campaign. I flagged down the elderly driver and asked if he’d like to sell the two AWESOME red, chippy vintage wrought iron armchairs perched perilously on the top of his towering stack. “Sure,” he said. “I was just taking them to the scrapyard.” For $10 they were mine–and now they belong to posse member Susie, who was looking for the very thing.

Ah, spring. Doncha just love it?

P.S. As I was starting to leave home to head off to North Carolina for my writer’s retreat, Katie pulled up and mentioned that she’d spied a yard sale just down the block. I went, I saw, I found a great antique wicker desk and a pair of cute boudoir lamps. And then, on the way to Southern Pines, I stopped in at Old Tyme Market antiques outside Charlotte. And I snagged a great beachy aqua quilt and a vintage tin litho sandpail. See? It was just that kind of weekend.