Monday, July 5, 2010

In which I junk at a fancy garage sale...

This weekend took us out to the Berkshire mountains for fun with my in-laws. We swam and barbecued and frolicked.

I also attended a very fancy garage sale. I was too embarrassed to take pictures, which is odd when you consider that I am a person who regularly photographs junk for my blog. Anyway, the home of this garage sale is probably considered an estate and let me tell you- the prices proved it!

They had quite a few real antiques which were priced at antique store prices. I ignored those. I did spy this old shopping basket. The owner wanted $10, "I paid quite a bit for that you know," she told me. I talked her down to $8 because I loved it.


The old croquet mallets were in a box labeled "Free!" along with the little iron stone plate. Free is my favorite price.

Now we are back home and inhabiting a stretch of summer which I like to refer to as hell. Hot, followed by humid, followed by me crying. I'm not saying that junking will be the cure for this misery, but a girl has got to explore every option.

Can you stand one cute kid story which involves not only blasphemy, but family drama?

On Saturday we took my kids and my niece and nephew to the lake. David's folks took my niece and nephew in my brother-in-law's car and David and I took our kids in our minivan. Once at the lake we spent some time convincing my city kid nephew that there were no sea urchins in the lake. After the swimming all four kids got very involved in a huge sand project which involved dams and natural disasters and a full body coating of sand.

My car almost always has a layer of gold fish cracker, dog hair and sand detritus covering most surfaces. Once a week I vacuum it, but I recognize a losing battle when I see it.

My dear brother-in-law is not a slob like me tidy with his car and was upset when we got back and he discovered all the sand that the kids had tracked into the car.

Lily was standing next to him as he was grumbling about the mess. "Jesus Christ!" he swore under his breath.

Not to be outdone, Lily then exclaimed, matching his tone of frustration with her own, "Christ on a cross!"

I have no idea where my child learned such a thing.

I will probably go to hell.

4 comments:

Left-Handed Housewife said...

I hate July. Usually I don't start hating it until around July 13th, but this year I'm hating it already. And, yes, there will be tears.

Maybe Lily has been hanging out with nuns. "Christ on a cross" sounds like something a nun would say when confronting a trashed car.

Just a thought.

frances

Rose said...

Ha! At least your 15 month old doesn't say the S-word like it's going out of style (thanks, darling husband). Luckily, she pronounces it funny, so when she falls down at the playground and says "Oh, man! Ditsh, ditsh!" the other mommies don't know what a sailor-mouthed child I'm raising.

Cheryl said...

Um, no comment.

Anonymous said...

LM(recovering Catholic turned Jewish)AO-- Ms. TT