Changing seasons

Yesterday, the last day of winter—
Minutes after my forlorn little blog post, I was sitting on my front porch with Moxie, pausing after our stroller walk, when completely out of the blue, she projectile-vomited, twice, with a force so powerful I later had to clean the INSIDE of a closed wooden chest which holds our shoes. As I sat there in astonishment, at the epicenter of the spew, I stripped mucky Moxie down and yelled for help from Rob, who just happened to be in the house at the time. Careful to keep his feet on dry land, he laughingly reached across the gorge and rescued our little puker from the great puddle that was once my lap. He kept on laughing as he took her into the bedroom to change her diaper and get her comfortably pajama-ed while I took care of the damage.

About the time I got the floor mopped up and the furniture clean I heard a loud exclamation. Still covered with barf, I ran in to find Rob hunched over a naked, startled baby Moxie on our bed, and pulling all four corners of her changing pad up around her. He was paralyzed. I knew exactly what had happened. "Geyser?" I asked. "She's in a pool of pee!" he cried desperately. "Grab something! Help!" I brought in a towel. We managed to make a less than devastating transfer; the bed only got wet on his side. Heh.

So this was a first—it was Moxie's first complex blowout. I know there's still room for another level of achievement, but hey, a 2-in-1 is impressive. And a funny way to conclude Mama's bout of personal melancholy.

Today, the first day of spring—
I got the last paper, a medical form, filled out and signed and turned in to the agency. There's nothing more to do now except drive to the courthouse Monday with my people, pay some legal fees, stand before the judge and smile and cry as he pronounces us a legal family. WHAT!

Moxie and I went a-thrifting, and found us each a good outfit to wear to court on Monday, and only spent $12. Hey!

Rob and Moxie and I attended the annual Book Collectors' Conference luncheon at BYU. Rob prints their keepsake every year, and this year he also taught a workshop on lino cuts. It was nice to see some friendly familiar faces, and to introduce them to our little party crasher.

We three spent the afternoon together. We visited the South Valley pound and pondered dog ownership AGAIN, considered adopting a hulking backyard bunny that looked like a dalmation, and watched with great interest as a prison inmate and one of the medical staff chased down a hellcat that flew out of its cage when someone opened the door to refresh its water. Have you ever watched an angry cat go insane escaping and run up walls?

We went on a ramble down Spanish Fork way. First, we got hooked by a promising sign that said HUGE ESTATE SALE and gave directions. We drove and drove, following more signs in this series, and after about a dozen arrows and maybe that many meandering miles, we found ourselves in Woodland Hills, up against the mountain. A nice place, forested, with a beautiful view and some good houses. But the estate sale? Cruddy leather couches, an old Pfaff, lampshades and worn out Mormon vinyl lps: Osmonds, MoTabs, Carpenters. Lots of beige and plaid. We were duped! But it was fun anticipating the treasures we didn't find. And it was interesting exploring that area.

We found an antique store we hadn't been in for some years, bought a small cheerful treasure. Discovered that Moxie seems to like creepy old dolls. Anything with a face, maybe, but the antique dollies appeared to capture her interest most. What does it mean? We'll have to pay a visit to Cat's Cradle Antiques soon to test her tolerance.

Finished off our time with BYU Creamery burgers and fries then headed for home. Rob and Moxie were both such great company today. Our little girl was bright and in great spirits all day and we all laughed together a lot. The world is beautiful right now with all its blooming and bursting. The only downside to this kind of fun day is that it has to end—Rob has to work late, and Moxie is peeved that she is called upon to sleep. Oh well, still worth it. A few rounds of reading, singing, fighting against the zzzs, succumbing, waking, crying and yelling, and I got her settled, for the night, finally, with kisses and promises that we'll have another day in a few hours.

I worked on a project while my people both worked on their own, and at the end of my day, I dipped into my "creative account" and ordered two instruments online. If you're still reading this travelogue, can you guess what they are?

It was a good first day of a new season. It feels like a party when the world begins coming to life. Makes me want to sing. Or make something sing.

Stuff I didn't buy 3

Rob and I made a quick stop at our favorite secondhand store this afternoon so Rob could hunt for some amps. No luck for him, but I must say I found some gems. I picked up a great book of crème brûlée recipes and a collection of classic Welsh short stories. But as usual, the more interesting items were the ones I didn't buy. Sometimes just having photos of them is enough, especially the writings that are left behind in old notebooks and journals. This time I got to see the inner workings of the minds of two young boys:

"... and at the end of the Day i'd Rather stay." Yeah, so would I, kid. 

Yesss! Something really useful on the last page
 of a notebook full of spelling lists and long division. 

And here is almost an entire book club set of one of my all-time favorite reads, Haven Kimmel's hilarious first installation of her childhood memoirs. Next to those eight copies of A Girl Named Zippy is her excellent follow-up book. I was so tempted to grab them all for a mere two bucks apiece, but my inner accountant advised me to be practical. *sigh* Glad I have my own copy—might need to dust it off and dip into it to combat the January greys that I know are coming. Maybe you should pick up a copy for yourself, and we can spend an evening laughing about it together and reminiscing over some of our own family stories. We could even whip up some fake blood and enjoy a little recess from life. Howzaboutit?

It's Haven heaven at D.I.!

And we have a winner!

Remember this giveaway that was so wildly popular that FOUR(!!!!) brave souls tossed their hats into the ring, hoping to win?

Well, I have good, if belated, news.

Good news, that is, for one lucky, lucky chum who was fortuitously selected (thank you, Random.org) during his very own birthday season! That's right, Scott, you are now the proud owner of an original piece of art (unless you've changed your mind—ahem). Bless you! Bless your wall! You will be the envy of all your friends, me most of all (however, Rob won't miss it much). Congratulations! And happy birthday!

(Isn't that a great face? Dear Scott and I go way back to high school days.)

Now we just need to figure out when and where to hand this thing off.

Vive la D.I.!

Stuff I Bought + a Giveaway

So to follow up on this week's thrift store tour of duty, here are the few items I did bring home. Mirjam, this is at your request.

I can never stay away from the books section. Here's a great find—some terrific patterns at a nice price.

This one was more or less a blind grab, but so far it's been a fun read.

Ethnic weaving. Resistance is futile.

So, that's it. For the hundred things I snickered at and rejected, I brought three treasures home. I definitely get my money's worth of entertainment on these occasional trips to Secondhandland.

To give you a chance to enjoy recycled treasures also, I am hosting a giveaway. Do you recall the fabulous collage I blogged about in my first Stuff I Didn't Buy post? Well, the next time I visited D.I. it was still there! I figured it was meant to be, so I didn't pass it up that time. And now I want to share the love. Feast your eyes again on this beauty and tell me you wouldn't love to see it hanging on your lonesome wall.

So here's how it works. You've got until next Saturday, September 24th, at midnight, Mountain time, to enter the giveaway.  Leave a comment below and you'll be part of the random drawing. If you would like to be entered additional times, you can subscribe to my blog, make a noise about this post elsewhere, or do something else outlandish to squawk about this giveaway. When you do something extra, leave another comment and let me know, and you'll be entered again for this exquisite piece of fine art.

Good luck!

P.S. I will mail anywhere on Planet Earth.

P.P.S. You will never be able to fully appreciate how fabulous this collage is until you see it in person and play Where's Waldo, hunting for robots, cowboys, ninjas, Cheryl Crowe and Lance Armstrong!

Stuff I Didn't Buy 2

Remember this post? Here goes round two. I'm thinking that Stuff I Didn't buy needs to become a regular feature here on Bright Street. There are just too many awful gems waiting in thrift stores not to share the kitschy love.

Scarlett O'Hara plate, pretty as a picture (fit to be hung). A lady with shopping cart envy saw me with this and lamented that she hadn't spotted it first, what a treasure, etc., so after I finished taking this photo, I handed Scarlett to her with my blessing, and the lady behaved as if she'd just met the real Santa Claus. I'm a Christian martyr, that's what I am, a real Christian martyr.

No. Just no.

Wormy apple latch hook rug!

Impossibly overgrown acrylic doily. I'm sure it seemed like a good idea at Round One.

Oo! Ooo! What's inside?

Surprise! A deformed and neglected nightmare dolly! Quick, write a screenplay!

Half-truth: If this notebook had been free it would have come home with me, because look at the deep thoughts inside (click on pages for higher res photos you can actually read)—

Sauce, indeed. This is my kind of find. I probably just crossed a line, broke some intellectual property law, by posting this. Sorry, Kenzie Barrow. Thanks for sending your notebook to D.I. I wish you a happy, saucy marriage... someday.

Hand-carved ray. Maybe it could be used as a salad spoon?

So typical! Would you believe, this deer jumped out in front of a lady's cart, she swerved and missed it, but then I nearly ran it over while turning a corner? Why are deer always doing that, throwing themselves into us and causing accidents? Do deer have some vendetta against us?

I have this thing for buying jump ropes. It's really hard not to when I find them, especially when they have the great turny wooden handles. But I didn't buy this one. Good for me.

I was tempted, for a split-second, to buy this and send it to my cousin, Ryan, who loves bow ties and the occasional outlandish accessory. But he's not actually a clown, so I didn't.

Check out that Unique Dice Roller. Passports, check. Travel Yahtzee, check. Let's drive to Mexico!

 Butterflies are not free.

The poor little dead things.

'Nuther gift for a loved one, to add to her collection of odd round objects. But on second thought, no.

Do you ever wonder how somebody like Van Gogh would feel, finding one of his inspired creations serving as a mouse rug?

Okay, so I picked up this cookbook in a weak moment. My resolve to continue my month-long fruit and veg detox began to melt like the cheese on this glorious cover. Oh, me. For just a minute I hated everything that wasn't sharp cheddar. I'm over it now.

If I do make Stuff I Didn't Buy a regular blog feature, I think I should showcase a popular subset: Unsuccessful Baby Blankets. I often see them while I'm out thrifting. This one was done in acrylic oranges. Granny squares are cute by default, right? This one almost promises colic.

Crocheted in an even stiffer acrylic, this blankey had a more generally acceptable colorway, but it was practically Barbie-sized. I guess somebody was at the end of her yarn stash. Or that was some skinny baby.

Somebody must have loved this one once because it's got holes. Does that prove anything? How's my logic? Could it have been loved by mice? This handiwork made me mad because it sports a shrunken wool center, and the rest is baby acrylic. That's just wrong.

This was actually a really appealing find. What a cute green vent! If only I had a place for it in my house. Maybe I should move.

This is the sort of stuff some kids will lick if they think no grownups are watching.

Turkey candle.

Bleh! Ceramic angel heads! Bags and bags of them! (But one good thing, the heads made a great sound when rubbed together. Next time instead of taking photos of my rejects, I should make audio recordings.)

I always find it hard to say no to little plastic guys doing their murderous little jobs. Why? I said no to a bagful of fresh green soldiers too this time, not just cowboys and Indians.

This isn't kitschy, it's just a cheap jewelry box. I picked it up because it's a smaller version of the one my mom had when I was a child, and it smelled exactly the way hers did. It made me very nostalgic, and I almost bought it.

I unearthed this old clock part and it made the most amazing doi-oi-oing sound when struck. It really killed me not to have a decent recorder on me when I found this.

More pretty sounds I missed capturing. Phoo.

Six of these fairy girls! In all colors! Fairy friends! Why didn't I take photos of all of them? Fairies are real! Look closely, and you'll see.

Eraserhead baby. Extra chins at no extra charge. Scary!

Close-up.

Now, this looks like a genuine treasure. What could it be?

A dream come true! It's an old short wave radio!

It even picks up the Vatican!

If only I had $40 to burn, I'd buy that Golden Throat certified!


Thanks for taking this thrift store tour with me. I hope you enjoyed yourself, and go on a treasure hunt of your own. Take me with you!