Fall Is upon Us...'Tis Time to Rummage!!

Yes! This past week, I took a day off so that my fellow treasure hunter Laurie and I could make our biannual pilgrimage up to Winnetka for the big rummage sale. The fall rummage mecca is Christ Church, and its sale is always a doozie. So... let's get right to the spoils:

First, the shiny things:


The box is an old tin candy box with a hinged lid. I love the detail--it would have been way cooler if the flowers could have been some kind of paisley-esque motif, but hey, you can't have everything. The crocheted thing with the paillettes is a tote bag from Von Maur... it still had the tag on it. It's probably the least practical thing I got at the sale, but I cannot pass up paillettes. Nosiree! I didn't get the moniker "Magpie" for nothing!

Of course, the rummage has become a pretty reliable place to find cool table linens, and this year was no exception.


The small vintage tablecloth was a steal at $4.00, while even the large cloth (which will grace our Thanksgiving table this year) was a tad steep at $7.00... but it is pristine. The napkins are the coolest green paisley. I don't have anything to go with them... yet. But they are lovely and in such good shape. And at $2.50 the lot, who could resist?

Then there were the books...


I was much more disciplined this year than in years past, but to tell you the truth, we arrived a tad later than usual this year, and we had to park about a mile from the sale. Knowing you have to schlep your purchases offers a little incentive to rein in impulse buying. (Okay, okay... the damned spangled tote bag was an impulse purchase. But it weighs ounces, I tell you! Ounces!)

One book I couldn't resist, though, was this small journal:


Now, I already have more journals than I'll probably fill for the rest of my life (or, at least, until civilization implodes and we no longer have access to the Web and blogs and stuff), but I couldn't resist this one. And why? Well, I know you can't read it, but just take a gander:


It was inscribed! And very sweetly, from Gina to Brian, with hopes that he will record his travels, thoughts, and adventures. On the first page of the journal, Gina has copied out and slightly adapted the first sonnet in Christina Rossetti's "Monna Innominata: A Sonnet of Sonnets." It is dated May, '94. What a lovely gift! But, alas, one that doesn't appear to have been appreciated:


All the rest of the pages are untouched. It certainly appears this journal was a gift to a departing lover, but did Gina know that Brian would never come back to her? Given the way she adapted the sonnet, it could well be a parting gift, with the hope (probably vain) that Brian might reconsider. At any rate, I felt so sorry for this little book (there I go, anthropomorphizing again!) that I had to purchase it. Fifty cents is not too high a price to pay for this artifact--and who knows? Maybe it will inspire a story, or more.

Of course, the sale yielded the usual big man's shirt (only one, this time) and a couple of pairs of designer shoes in never-worn condition...


You know, Laurie and I were talking about all the shoes we've picked up at the rummage over the years, and how even if you figure that the shoes averaged about $3.00 a pair (this year, the going rate was $6.00, which we thought a bit steep, but these ARE Italian and never worn), the sum of all our purchases would not equal the original price of one pair of them. Ah, rummage, sweet rummage!

But, the piece de resistance, the BIG find, was this never-before-worn winter coat:


Only 40 smackeroos! Now, that's kind of pricey for the rummage, but, as I said, this coat has never been worn. And, as luck would have it, I have been pricing winter coats of late, as my trusty overcoat--which I bought in 2001 when my pals Barb and Beth came to visit--is getting a tad threadbare. That now-old coat cost at least a C-note more than this coat, BUT now that even mid-priced wool coats were going for $400+ at Carson's last weekend, I would say that 40 bucks is a really good deal. I'm happy. Can you tell?

Next up, in a day or two, I'll present our newest appliance. Oooohhhhh.....

O Joy! or, Proof Positive that I Am a Nerd

Today, I had one of those bouts of complete elation that come only rarely in a lifetime--something I thought was lost to me forever came back into my hands.



This book was one of the textbooks for the Anglo-Saxon class I took my first semester of grad school. I was an aspiring medievalist, and a class where I was required to read "Caedmon's Hymn" and Beowulf in their original languages was pretty heady stuff. And not easy. This book was a godsend. Not only does it contain hundreds of basic Anglo-Saxon words, but it explains in very clear terms how these words can be combined, so that once you get the hang of it, you're all set with your hwaets, your weards, and your hlaefdiges. And it was only $2.95! A college textbook for $2.95. Even in the lang, lang ago, this was quite a bargain.

Now, I did not become a medievalist. I grew tired of going to school and allowed myself to be seduced by the siren song of rock and roll. I traded my eths, my thorns, my ashes, my wynns, and my yoghs (insider lingo for the Anglo-Saxon in the know) for miniskirts, danskin tights, and a short-scale Rickenbacker 325. I finished my M.A. but didn't pursue a Ph.D. I played in several bands. I moved from Syracuse (where I bought the book) to Boston and then to San Francisco. But through it all, Word-Hoard and my other favorite textbooks went with me.

Until the relationship on which I had embarked back in Syracuse--a relationship that had endured two moves and almost a dozen years--fell apart. And I was a wreck. A wreck who feared she could be a broken wreck. And so I sold about half my books. Including Word-Hoard. When the cloud of despair and anxiety started to lift several months later and I realized I was not going to be broke--well, not quite yet--I regretted selling that book, deeply. I went back to the store I had sold it to to try to buy it back, but it was no longer on the shelf.

And then...this morning Jeff walked into my office at work and said "I found this in the pile of books they're giving away up by the old dictionary department, and I thought you would like it." Then he handed me Word-Hoard, and my heart soared! I can't even describe the feeling--that I had gotten a long lost, long-forgotten piece of myself back again. A reunion. A healing. I think my reaction both shocked and delighted him. I know I was shocked and delighted!

I know this reaction is rather silly and overwrought, but damn if doesn't make me happy!! Thanks, Jeff!