Work started for me at 7:45 this morning. It might be in a swimming pool but it's still work on a Saturday morning and I resented it! Luckily, there were two garage sales within a couple of blocks of home so I could feed my addiction.
I'm thinking a drug additition would be easier to maintain than a garage sale addiction. Good drugs you can find any time of the year and on any street (or so I'm told) but a good garage sale between you and your work takes a lot of luck, the right weather, and nothing made in China!
I found one treasure, and I attacked a group of non-English-speaking men who bumped their big pickup into my little orange wagon.
Here's the treasure:
It's an old rawhide lampshade on a heavy metal frame. Two dollars. Heck, a fake rawhide shade at WallyWorld costs ten times that! I'm sure my dogs would think it's a large chew toy if they could reach it. I used it to replace the shade on my driftwood lamp.
Very western indeed and I've been wanting one. Let's face it, if Mary Emmerling has something in one of her western decorating books, I want one too.
The western platter is a Sky Ranch piece that Renee gave me and I barely had to beg her for it at all! The green canteen is by Frankoma. Two old branding irons serve as candle holders and a dead animal is the table runner. The deer painting is an original John Cogan.
So I attacked six men! They backed into my little wagon at the same garage sale. Everyone looked up to see whose vehicle had been hit, and the guy took his truck out of reverse and was going to take off. I started yelling at him, rushing forward with my finger jabbing the air. I had my bathing suit on under an extra-large shirt and jeans so he didn't know what I had or who I was, if you know what I mean. I was also wearing my work badge and had all kinds of keys hanging off me.
He got out of the truck and I'm acting like a crazy woman. Everyone is watching. FIVE MORE MEN got out of the truck and headed towards me. I figured they piled out of the truck for the intimidation factor.
I ignored the "groupies" and headed staight towards the driver, thinking all the while I'm going to be stabbed or shot! "Are you the driver?" I shouted. When he nodded his head, I give him a rap on his chest with my knuckle. He was big and I had to reach up but I did it like his momma would have. He suddenly had that "I'm a naughty boy" look on his face and his "friends" started backing away, muttering something in Spanish about "loco" and "blanca", which could have been referring to my mental state and my hair color. I don't know much Spanish but they knew I was little, I was old, I was crazy, and I had a hospital badge and they didn't want to mess with me.
I established that there was only a slight ding in the bumper and smiled when I said, "Get out of here but be careful next time."
They piled back in the truck faster than they had filed out. I bought my lampshade and went to work. It took me an hour to settle down. I'm sure my first class thought I was the Nazi drill instructor from Hell!