Thriftomatic!

When I was 9 or 10, my Grandfather (Dido to me) and I used to drive around Welland on Saturday mornings looking for yard sales.  He would smoke a big stogie (Muriel Magnum) while hunched over the wheel of his beater.  My Nana wouldn't let him smoke in the "nice" car and so whenever we drove together it was in a haze of blue smoke.  Dido's eyesight was terrible - he could barely stay on the right side of the road - and we occasionally jumped the curb, but this was living!

Back then, in the late 70's / early 80's, yard sales were a different animal.  First and foremost, we didn't live in a throwaway society like we do today, and so there were a lot less things to buy.  Dido was on the lookout for tools, broken lawn mowers (that he would fix and resell), junky bicycles (that he would fix and resell) and other "manly" things.  I loved riding around with my Grandfather; I loved his crappy car, I loved the smell of his cigar.

More often than not, there was a hand-lettered FOR SALE sign in my grandparents' driveway in front of a line of bicycles, a lawn mower or two and maybe some furniture.  I am not sure that Dido made much money from these sales; I think he did it for fun.  And he would often give the stuff away for nothing.  At his funeral, a sobbing couple showed up, and told us about his generosity, how he had loaned them money interest-free.  This was the kind of man he was.  

My Mom also used to drag me to flea markets and auction sales, often against my will.  She would hold up strange items of unknown provenance and ask: "do you know what this is used for?"  Over time, I became much better at this game and now I do the same thing with my own kids.  I am sure that they despise it as much as I did.  :-)

Here is a picture of one of my own mystery objects, which I have yet to identify.  Purchased at the Goodwill for $3, it begged to come home with me.

I think it's a weight of some sort.  It's solid wood on the bottom and there is a loose iron ring on top.  The ring is attached to the block of wood by a scalloped base:

Anyone have an idea what this is?  I suppose I can use it as a weapon - wallop the kids with it.

~~~

The first thing I can remember buying at a junk sale with my own money was a pink rhinestone bracelet for $4.  It looked a bit like this:

The bangle was pretty and delicate -- everything I was not!  I held on to the bracelet for more than twenty years, never wearing it, but occasionally removing it from my jewellery box, putting it on my wrist and admiring my arm.  When I began selling junque on ebay in the late 90's, I decided to sell the bracelet.  It sold for $240.  I was quite pleased with the profit.  The woman who bought it was thrilled:  she had a vast collection of deco bangles.  I could tell you all sorts of stories about the things I've sold on ebay and the $ I've made, but that is not what this blog entry is about.  It's about serendipity!

On the weekend, Gwen and I went to the Goodwill By the Pound store to look for fabric for her Hallowe'en costume (mummy).  The store used to be called Buck a Pound, but inflation has necessitated a name change :-)  I was disgusted by the crowds and the filth and was not in the mood to scrounge.
N.B: If you ever go, wear gloves!

So I walked around observing people, which was entertaining and occasionally revolting.  I found a book for Nath, which he LOVED.  He has devoured the rest of this series:

And then I spied this, in a bin full of junk:

I almost fell over.

We didn't have a lot of records when I was a kid.  Wait, let me rephrase, we did have a lot of records, but we weren't supposed to play them.  This record was my FAVOURITE.  My absolute favourite.  I played it incessantly when I was 6 or 7.  I know the words to every song on the album and their order:  as the Great Pretender wanes, I know that Rock Around the Clock is up next.

There were only 4 additional albums at the buck-a-pound that day and I am kicking myself for not buying the sealed Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass; however, I think that I was meant to find this recording.

The kids and I played the record non-stop, until R screamed: "I can only take so much. TURN IT OFF!" He was actually quite pissed.  We laughed.  I guess he's not a fan of 50's and 60's music.

The kids' favourites are Sugar Shack (just like their Uncle Ian) and Wipeout.  Here's the record and player set up in my living room, K-tel style.  Sorry there are no pictures of G and I doing the twist.

So I guess I should have some sort of point to conclude this entry with.
Thrifting is fun and profitable?
She who digs through trash finds treasure?

How about a quote from Macklemore?

I wear your granddad's clothes,

I look incredible,

I'm in this big ass coat,

From that thrift shop down the road...

~~~

Here is some information about the Buck a Pound:  http://info.london.on.ca/details.asp?id=13072

And because I love my tunes, here's a sampling of Sugar Shack by Jimmy Gilmer and the Fireballs (1963):

And my fave, Chantilly Lace by the Big Bopper:

Addendum:  a day after I wrote this entry, I went to the Goodwill and hit the record goldmine!  

• Beach Boys Endless Summer
• Simon and Garfunkel's Greatest Hits
• Fleetwood Mac Rumours
• Sharon, Lois and Bram One Elephant, Deux Éléphants
• Chubby Checker Your Twist Party
• Queen News of the World

And only a buck a pop!

Midnight Blue

Here's my entry for a recent Canada Writes Challenge The Song That Changed Your Life:

Blue

My Dad, a new bachelor wearing still-stiff cowboy boots, purchased the album from Woolco. We drove home in his Stingray, ripped off the cellophane and put it on the record player. We listened wordlessly.   I was 10; he was 38. Our fixation wasn't healthy.  Midnight Blue was our world.

One day my Dad came home with a new girlfriend.  Her name was Lynn and I thought she was beautiful.  She made us peanut butter Rice Krispie squares and brewed iced tea in a plastic pitcher outside on the grass.  She was vivacious and warm and she actually listened when I spoke.  

Lynn moved in with us and we still played Louise Tucker but less frequently. We made chili, skied, camped, played Scrabble.  After school one afternoon, I found a stash of empty Silent Sam bottles in the linen closet, stuffed in with the bedsheets. I was confused.

When Lynn moved out, I was devastated. My Mom had moved to New Jersey the previous year and I was still reeling from that. I loved Lynn, but she wasn't coming back.  Life went on.  We went to school, worked, grew. My Dad got a new girlfriend – Debi.  Debi didn't know how to spell her name and her designer jeans were too tight.  I thought she looked a bit like Louise Tucker - they both had the same big brown hair.

One rainy day, I was rifling through our records. Thumbing past Lynyrd Skynyrd and the Alan Parsons Project, I paused when I saw the familiar blue cover. 

It had been ages. I asked my Dad if I could put it on and his face crumpled and he looked weird.  He didn't want to listen; I could tell. We played it and it wasn't the same. The room was stale and cheerless; something was missing. I thought of Lynn and I realized that music conveys what you want or need it to. A song can change a person, it can echo a moment in time – ecstasy, devastation, loss. 

“Midnight blue,

Those treasured thoughts of you.

Gone now and forever

Please, let the music play.”

In Grade 10, I heard Scott Smith playing Beethoven's Pathetique Sonata on the piano in the music room.  I was hearing Midnight Blue all over again and I was overcome. I thought about the power of love, the power of loss and how some things, like songs, are owned by certain moments in your life. I think about Lynn, Louise, Debi and my Dad, but most of all I think about how a ten-year-old girl learned about love.

On Being Creative

Last weekend, I went to Toronto with my honey for a much-needed getaway.  Shopping at the St. Lawrence flea market on Sunday morning was a definite highlight.  Initially, I wasn't sure that it would be worth my while, it is Toronto after all, and if the odds and sods are priced anything like the city's real estate -- ouch! -- I wouldn't be buying anything.

Things I saw and coveted:

• midmod sterling jewellery that I couldn't afford
• a black leather and fur hat - a steal at $70
• hammered sterling earrings with green glass cabochons by Rafael (Canadian jewellery designer - he had his heyday in the seventies)

I ignored most of the book stalls, but one dealer specialized in Arts and Crafts and so I looked at her wares.  I got sucked into a book featuring the designs of Dard Hunter.  DH, a printing / papermaking / design pioneer active in A & C is awesome.  His preferred medium?  Paper.

I am a dumbass because I didn't write down the name of the book; however, as a good librarian, I should be able to figure it out.  I know that the word "rebel" was in the title and the approximate time period that it was published... maybe when I have some time to look up something flighty, I will.   

Another clue:  I did write down an inspirational quote from DH himself (on a paper bag that contained the remains of my greasy breakfast sandwich) :

Yeah, yeah. It's backwards, I know.  Dumb photobooth.

Here, don't even bother with the idle scratching above.

I do love this quote; it energizes me and it's so true.

And so, I have been sewing like a nut this week.  Here's a preview.  First - a cushion pour moi.  Haven't made "his" yet - there won't be one.  ha hahahahaha.

And a cushion cover, in progress.  Harder to make those wretched circles than it looks. Inspired by the work of the textile designer and quilter Malka Dubrawsky.  I still have to quilt the top, make some binding and assemble it.

Lastly, I submitted a piece of writing to a Canada Writes Challenge.  I wrote about a bad 80's song which originated from Beethoven's Sonata Pathetique (Moonlight serenade, no. 8). The Beethoven is sad and beautiful, reminds me of lost loves.

Click here to read the piece:  Blue

kPods

On the front page of a recent edition of the London Free Press, I read the headline: Kids, today's letter is 'i' - as in iPod.  I learned that hundreds of kindergarten and JK pupils are part of a pilot project using iPod Touches to teach them how to "use applications, send e-mails, take pictures, listen to stories online and more".  The school board paid for 40 iPod Touch kits at $1200 a pop, while the Ministry of Education footed the $25,000 bill to train the teachers.

Surely I cannot be the only one who thinks that this is a terrific idea.  Why not give all of the children laptops while they're at it?  Oh wait. Laptops have gone the way of the dinosaur, like books.  Right.  Maybe they should all get iPads instead.  Because kids NEED to spend more time interacting with technology -  playing outside is so 1980.

I like my iPod, most of the time.  I use it to listen to books on tape (yes, I still call them that even though tape has migrated to cd, which has migrated to mp3... and so on) and for listening to tunes in the car.  I borrow compact discs from the library, import them into iTunes and then transfer the music onto the iPod.  A bit onerous, but free.  I did buy one song from iTunes on one occasion (it was an Old Man Luedecke song about bacon that I couldn't get out of my head), but I find my system works for me.  I also borrow children's books and transfer those files to the iPod for the kids.  I used to read novels aloud to them, once they progressed beyond picture books, but since I have polyps and some vocal cord dysfunction, I find this works better for me.

I asked my 8-year-old if he thought that Kindergarten students should have iPods.  He paused briefly and said "they're expensive and they'll wreck them, like if they drop it".

Good point, Nathaniel!  I hadn't even considered that, even though we own one broken iPod. One of the kids dropped it; the power button is broken and you can't turn the blasted thing off.  It's permanently on; it always requires a recharge.  That glowing screen is no beacon in the night for me!

Not to be outdone, my 6-year-old said "they'll get addicted and want to play video games all the time".

From the mouths of babes... "Yeah," Nathaniel piped in.  "Because they're starting so young".

I'm not sure why a kindergardener needs to use email.  Oh wait, to set up play-dates with classmates.  Why don't we give them all iPhones so they can call their friends too.   Duh.  Calling is also so 1980.  They can text their friends instead.  Once their new iPod teaches them how to read and write.  Brilliant!

Let children be children, for Christ's sake.  As for the literacy aspect of the iPod (maybe they will be listening to stories online?); I agree that children need to learn to read.  And we already have a perfectly inexpensive and durable technology that helps them do this.  It's called a book, people.  Those old-fashioned paper products that you actually have to physically turn the pages of using gasp your actual  fingers.  And that can withstand being dropped.  And that do not require a recharge or batteries.  And that you don't need an owner's manual for.  And that cost a hell of a lot less than $1200!

Here's a link to that hilarious Old Man Luedecke song that I bought.  OML is waxing on about the scent of bacon cooking...

I opened up a book, on the shelf near my Bible.
Opened up a book for culinary survival.
I took a look in 
The Joy of Cookin'
Joy of Cookin', 
oh, why, oh?
If I'm not mistaken, 
the answer’s bacon
Answer's bacon, 
oh, why, oh?

Poetry and Brouwer Power or RB's Star Turn on Youtube

I know that you're all here for Richard and not for my poems.  I'm good with that.

Canada Writes hosts several writing challenges during the year: fiction, creative non-fiction and poetry.  These contests have a $25 entry fee but the pay-off is huge: six grand for the winner and a two-week stint at a writing retreat in BC.

Yowza!

The runners-up also receive several thousand dollars. I entered the fiction category earlier in the year and am currently writing some poetry which I will submit by the deadline, which is the 1st of May.  I am writing a series of poems about Victoria Stafford, the eight-year-old Woodstock girl who was murdered three years ago.  Her murderer is on trial in London right now and the reports in the paper are so heartbreaking.  I'm not sure why I even read it. I skim the article and then I feel sick and find myself thinking about it constantly during the day. This cannot be good.  Such lack of humanity and sadistic tendencies in her murderers; I think this child needs to be remembered differently.  My poems will not be graphic or disturbing; I am going to try to write about her death and life using different points of view.  I'll admit that the subject is unsettling and I can't actually believe that I am writing about it, but I think it can be done and done well.  Whether I am the poet to do this is another subject of course, but I'll try.  Jack Kerouac's advice is to write "only what kicks you and keeps you overtime awake..." and while he is referring to something that is joyous, I think that the opposite also holds true.

Canada Writes also hosted another writing contest recently - the April Fool's Apology Twitter Challenge.  Yes, this Luddite signed up for Twitter and figured out how to tweet.  Wretched Twitter; I am of the opinion that most people over the age of 35 are clueless.  From what I have gleaned from my interactions with Twitter, one can get realtime updates from celebrities, groups, politicians, authors etc. that one "follows".  All of these updates are less than 140 characters in length and you can get them sent to your mobile device.  I don't really get the Twitter phenomenon; obviously, it's not for me as I can't think of anyone that I need real time updates from except for maybe my family; however, I can apply this same logic to Farcebook and I am still a sucker for that, as embarrassing as it is to admit.

I entered the April Fool's contest and CW actually liked one of my submissions.  This is the one that is included on the long-list:

I'm sorry for yelling "JIM" during our lovemaking. I thought you'd laugh. I shouldn't have worn your Mom's wig either. Sorry. #canadawrites

I read a bunch of my other submissions to the family around the dinner table last night and while RB liked this one the best, the kiddies liked:

How was I supposed to know that you had a maggot phobia? I didn't mean for you to actually eat one! Forgive me? Kisses.#canadawrites

We'll see if I make the shortlist.

My husband is a teacher at Saunders Secondary and every year, the school mounts a Cancer Campaign.  In 2011, the school set a new record by raising almost $63 000.00! That's amazing.  Some of the hardworking students at the school have made a video which they've posted to Youtube:

Richard is featured at 3:15, for those who do not wish to watch the video in its entirety.  I think that these students have done a fabulous job!  I hope that they kick cancer's ass!