out of the bin volume two

here we are again folks, it's the second week of my new thrifting feature. last week i promised to include a linky for anyone else who wants to share where and how they find their treasures and i really hope some of you link up.  i want to see your goodies!  and i need to think of a better name than "out of the bin" - any ideas?

one enchanted tuesday i saw this calling me from across a crowded room:

 lady at the register: um, this is gonna be $2, just for this, do you still want it?

me:  oh, yeah, that's okay

lady: that's okay, you don't want it?

me: no, it's okay that it's $2.  i want it.


i told luke that story and he was like, "YOU PAID TWO WHOLE DOLLARS FOR THAT THING!?" yes, darling, sorry to be such a spendthrift.

now it is your turn! can't wait to see what you found and where you found it!
can you tell i am excited! exclamation!


it really would be better in my handwriting

i wonder if i'll ever go back and read this blog start to finish.  will i print it out?  will it just disappear into the cloud?  am i using that phrase, "the cloud" right?

i wish i had said what i wanted to say when i typed my last post.  i know the stuff i wanted to say is in my brain because i had thought it all out: thoughts about decay and the changing things and the staying the same things and how places disappear a little at a time. but when i went to type it out, i felt, i dunno, exhausted by it all.

i love telling stories here, it feels good to get it out and share and look at them on the screen. but there is always this itch, this sinking irritation of uncertainty.  i just never know if what i am saying rings true or sounds a little nuts.  this is especially a problem when i talk about my childhood and my grandparents.  i know these stories can be sappy but i don't care so much about that, as long as it all feels real when it falls out of my fingertips. it's just that i never know if i have given enough back story, enough information to leave the why-on-earth-does-she-care-so-much without question marks. storytelling is a funny thing, you know? you do it right or you do a disservice to a real and special thing.  that's a lot of pressure.

i don't really enjoy getting into the tiresome details of my life, all of the my parents divorced and i was their only child and so my mom and i lived with my mom's parents and her brothers and and and---there is just so much of this explaining that should be done, explaining that doesn't feel good to write and that doesn't really belong to me, anyway.  but is it possible to describe my feelings, to you, without it?  is it possible to describe my feelings at all?  telling you this stuff right now doesn't really tell you.  these words are shadows. they aren't even shadows.  they are letters from the alphabet moved around on white space.  they aren't even written in my handwriting.  they are just language.  the stories of that house and family can't be typed, not simply.  maybe in a great american novel or whatever, but not at one in the morning with my eyes half closed.

i guess i don't have to tell you all the details.

but i do want you to know how much i was loved and how much i am loved and how much i love them all back and how very much it matters.

(i fell asleep editing this at one am.  i'm just going to hit publish now and let the words drift off into space.)


a year ago today


we had no idea she would only be here on earth for four more months.

i have so many things to say about this and about her. too many to start anywhere. but first and foremost: my god, i miss her. more and more all the time. you think when someone dies that the hardest part is at first, when you know they are gone. but then you have to live with the never seeing them again.

i also want to link to this post because it says more than i have the energy to write out, today. but that place is truly gone now. truly gone. vacant and broken, just waiting to be emptied and sold.

and every time i watch this, i lose it. that song. oh my gosh. that song.

we took the kids to the pooh movie yesterday and it was very sweet and fun and memorable and a big first for us. but i would have much preferred to spend the day with her.


out of the bin: the red turtle top

so often people tell me that "they never see good stuff at the thrifts!" or that i have such good luck. and i do have good luck; a recent dud of a trip reminded me that there is certainly luck and weather and funny little factors all involved in the hunt. but also? i look really really hard. i spend tons of time and i scan constantly for the texture of the fabric and the way things hang and vintage looking typography and old fashioned sewing techniques and all of that from far away. and i can totally spot those things! but only from experience. only from looking at junk for years and memorizing the details in the good things i find. i am not saying any of this to pat myself on the back, just to share for others, in case you think you always have bad luck. i just want to encourage you, if vintage/second hand steals make you happy but you aren't sure how to find them amongst the muck.

i thought it might be fun to do a series here, where i snap photos of how and where my favorite thrifted things are found and then a photo to show how they are at home-- cleaned up, possibly re-styled or mended or even completely reworked.  and i would LOVE if anyone else wanted to join in.  i would seriously be thrilled to see how and where you find your favorite goodies.  i know i could learn from you and be inspired by what you pull out of where and how something that at first glance looks, sometimes literally, like garbage, can be fabulous! or where and how a complete gem has been stored before finding its new home.
would you link up with me next friday?  you don't have to take the before photo on the shelf/bin/floor/yard sale where you found it, especially if there is re-working involved or if it is particularly dusty/dirty/etc and needs other TLC, but it sure would be the most fun that way!  what say you?  anyone in?  if so, i'll think up a name and post the linky next week.  if not, i'll just post my own!

here is number one!  the red turtle top.  i love.



PS. i have some ridiculous goodwill outlet stories to tell you in another post soon.  luke says i should do it huffington post style, like, "TOP TEN MOST OUTRAGEOUS GOODWILL OUTLET MOMENTS OF THE SUMMER!" or whatever.  maybe i will.  several involve near physical altercations.  outrageous!


one x three


dear hal, i thought you'd be walking by now but your ears have been slowing you down. you don't walk, but you do stand your own little self up and just stand there, like, "what?  no big deal." you are a strong and determined almost-toddler.

dear alice, two weeks ago you stopped saying "ed-oh" instead of "yellow" and i am still mourning it, a little.  just out nowhere one day, you quit. as if it just occurred to you, you told me, "i say ed-oh instead of yeww...  yeww-oww.  yewlooll.  yellow."  and that was that.  also? you have the cutest speaking voice i have ever heard come out of a human. everyone remarks on it. it's entirely precious and wonderful and i never ever want to forget it.  you are a little lady. you will be three next month. 

dear clark, you talk to everyone, everywhere we go. the pharmacist and the boy looking at the playmobil pirate ship you want and the refrigerator delivery people. the neighbors walking their dogs and the other people in line at the grocery store.  you do not have a timid bone in your body. you are all about people and action and imagination.  you had your half birthday on tuesday and we can see age five way up ahead there, in the distance.  let's walk the rest of the way, okay?

just so i remember one little thing about each of them from july of 2011.


hooray and goodnight

thank you so much for all of your virtual hand holding and support on twitter and facebook and instagram and here and there and everywhere.  you are a very sweet and supportive bunch.  mwah.  hooray for you guys.

the tube procedure was SO quick, as i knew it would be. we were in and out of the surgery center within two hours. the worst part was how upset and confused and groggy he was when he woke up from the anesthesia, but that didn't last long. the other worst part was when i handed him over to the nurse and she walked away.  but really, it was no big deal.  it was a good thing.  the ENT said both ears were full of fluid, and that he should have some instant relief.  hooray for ear tubes.


tomorrow we will all wake up in regular moods and eat our regular breakfast and whine about regular things have a regular day.

hooray for regular.

(i have now officially been awake for almost two days straight. goodnight.)


c'est la vie c'est la mort (or the other way around)

things you can put in a glass jar:
jelly beans.
iced coffee.
cookie fortunes.
bottle rockets.
eraser collections.
cream soda.
stripey straws.
flowers from your boyfriend
or your wedding
or your grandma's funeral.

things you cannot put in a glass jar:
that extra sleep you got before you had kids.
the two year old's baby words.
prior knowledge.
the feeling of being in the same room with your boyfriend,
or your husband,
or your grandma.
(but i wish you could.)

i meant to somehow make this about how today is the fourth of july but i just started typing and that didn't come out at all.

tomorrow morning at 6:30am the baby and i will arrive at the surgery center to get the tubes put in his ears.  i know it will be fine but i also know i will be tired and nervous to see him wear his little baby hospital gown and go under general anesthesia. prayers for calm would be appreciated.  Xs and Os.

ps. i don't speak french but i do like this song.


pretty much

and just like that i am 1/12 done with age 28.

i am going to post something everyday this week, even if it is just a photo.  even if it is just a photo that doesn't even make sense.  i saw something on twitter the other day that said something like, it takes three times as much effort to start anew as it does to keep going and i pretty much believe it.

these illustrations remind me of my kids.


because, yeah.