One person's junque is another person's treasure. One person's near perfect day is not necessarily most people's vision of a near perfect day. But, I've had a fabulous day myself and there are still hours to go yet.
Above is my "haul" from 1 1/2 hours of what I've come to call junque-ing, estate or garage sale-ing. To begin with, the weather today is what Southern California is famous for--hot, but not too hot--air clear and most people wearing super casual clothes. I planned my little route of houses to visit and I was lucky to find eight within two miles of my house--and I went late so people were willing to bargain. One block had five just a few houses apart. These days I'm mostly looking for art-related stuff and what you see above includes:
- One gorgeous black laquer Japanese "birth shrine" box and some of its original contents.
- One red and black mirror/candle holder, my favorite colors for folk art.
- One blue frame, one cobalt blue cross candle holder, and some ephemera for assemblage. Blues are my favorite colors.
- One small handmade box with wheels that will become a funky shrine.
- Three Margaret Furlong porcelain angels, brand new, in their boxes.
Total cost? $10.50. Yowsa!
Stories. Well, the black laquer box belonged to a Japanese man who told me he was 50 years old and the box was given to his parents in honor of his birth. His mom gave it to him recently and he said kind of shame-faced that he has no use for it. I do! I treasure a Margaret Furlong angel my friend Barbara gave me years ago and these angels are not inexpensive. Now my original angel has three sisters. A friend of the seller yelled out when we settled on $3 for all three, "Didn't your mom give you those for gifts?" She replied, "Naw. I don't know where I got them." Gulp.
Later I met two girlfriends at the local theater to see Woody Allen's "Blue Jasmine" film and though painful often to watch, to me it was a fabulous film--and it felt so cozy to be tucked into my seat between two women whose company I greatly enjoy.
On the way home I stopped at Michael's to use my 40% off coupon on some paint markers and went to Sprouts for milk--and peach pie. There is a very small window in summer when Sprouts has peach--my favorite. Wowsa!
Then, on the spur of the moment, I decided to go out to dinner--alone--at Maria's Mexican Restaurant by Michael's in Torrance. It's a local joint with great food and I brought in an old Kodak photography book to look at as I'm always very self-conscious about eating alone in restaurants. I got a taco combination plate and my excellent waitress struck up a conversation about Polaroid cameras and film vs. digital cameras. She boxed up my left-overs including the chips and hot sauce and I have another meal to eat tomorrow. I watched Central American soccer for a while on the flat screen and prepared to leave but not before practicing my Spanish in my head while watching the Spanish play-by-play titles flashing across the screen.
A woman about my age was eating alone and reading a book at a nearby table and as I was leaving she said, "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation about photography." Come to find out her name was Tootsie, and she was born and raised in Redondo Beach. She originally studied photography at Redondo Union High School--and we reminisced about "old" Redondo Beach vs. what it is like today. Tootsie and I got a big kick out of remembering the old Strand Theater which was near my house before it was torn down for fancy condos. I have heard the term "Recondo Beach" more than once. I live in one myself. A church was torn down to build my building. She was particularly enamored with the old Instamatic cameras she said. Then she launched into "old timey" photo stories about her grandparents and parents. I didn't want to be rude, so I listened for about 10 minutes before I politely managed to exit.
So, I came home and fed Mollie and came to the computer. There is a concert down at the pier and the excellent singer's voice is wafting up three blocks to my house, through my open window, and I feel so grateful to live where I live. No marine layer tonight. Yay.
So, now it's dog walk time, maybe a tiny bit of art using my new paint pens, and hopefully I will finish "Bad Monkey" tonight. By the way, walking through the neighborhood on a summer evening is a little bit voyueristic for me--so many people chatting on their patios and one family put their TV on their patio and watches outside. And, I know when I walk by the fire house, whatever they are cooking tonight will smell heavenly.
Wow. I'm so glad to be alive, in this time and in this place. I'm really in tune tonight with the interconnectedness of all people.