intermingling with Hubert...

yesterday as i sat on the floor, Used Dog deep in slumber close by, Little Olive upon my lap chewing her bone and me 'a pondering and a plotting' my next crafty move, the word 'intermingle' popped into my little brain.

where it came from i have no idea, i have never used nor thought of this spiffy word before. after several moments of thinking about nothing but this new and exotic word i decided it must be a sign. a sign from the thrifty gods. yes yes, with no doubt at all, they were sending me a sign.

i realized in this one word 'intermingle' was a whole message, the message being

"Tif, go forth to the thrift store and intermingle with other thrifty souls"

i protested a little, i know perhaps that sounds very unlike me, but we have reached the time of year when for two whole months my thrift store is taken over by halloween and the need for every man and his dog to find a costume of such. thus resulting in much loved shelves and rows, once filled with spiffy secondhand goodness, now filled with crappity crap mass produced wares.

however, 'intermingle' would not let me be, all through homework, all through dinner, all through whatever else i was 'all throughing' (Mr Spell Checker isn't happy) 'intermingle' kept on calling my name.

so i had no choice, i could not lie in bed listening to this word the secondhand gods had sent as a sign. this would have been a terrible faux pas, for the gods may chose to never bless me again with their thrifting good luck.

upon entering my thriftstore door, i turned to the left as is always my way and that was the moment Hubert and i found each other. on the shelves of knick knacks, right by the door, all else faded away except for a white bright light highlighting Hubert and his little fleabitten soul.

on close inspection Hubert has been knocked around a bit, he does not wear his 46 years well. i know his age, not because he told me, for alas Hubert has not spoken in many a long time, but because someone at some point decided to write it on his derriere, of course they could have been making it up, but i like to believe he is quite the old boy. i noted his crazed and craggy fur, i noted his terribly broken leg, still showing the scars of a badly patched job... but most of all, i noted his dignified look as i gazed into his little black eyes

when Hubert and i returned home to a dark and quiet shed, such is my life living with 'lads of three' who are out and about most evenings, i bathed him and then i found him a perfect little spot, one i had created only a few days before. i like to call them vignettes, my man has taken to calling them 'Tif's shrines' as in "ah, i see another shrine to your handcrafted and thrifty finds, has popped up whilst i turned my back". no matter. what matters is, i am thankful i was given a sign, so old Hubert can look forward to many happy days of 'intermingling' at mossy shed.

she is thinking how perfectly lovely of Victoria to encourage folks to dilly dally my way this friday ~ Tif

'once upon a time'...

i like the color green a whole lot,

always have.

i like grolly green

all the way through

to pretty pastel minty greens.

i like green with hints of blue

and i like green with hints of yellow.

in fact i think it quite true to say,

if i were only allowed one colour in my life

it would have to be green.

if i spy an article of clothing in a store

and it happens to be green,

all sense of what suits me or not,

goes out the window...

i only have eyes for the green.

finding vintage fabrics in green

and indeed clothing

can be a little tricky at times,

hence when i stumble upon them

i can get a little emotional

about the stumbling moment.

however i do not do luminous green,

no sirree,

no way,

no how,

having lived through the 80's

i cannot bring myself to dabble

with such wrongness again.

yesterday i decided to buy a small pot of paint,

a brilliantly cunning plan to distract me

from another of my flock getting ready to fly.

it did not take me long to spy my green,

it was called 'once upon a time'.

well surely upon surely,

if ever there was a green paint

suited to our shed,

it had to be this one.

upon arriving home at the shed

i noted i have a couple of hours

before high school graduation.

ignoring the piles of laundry,

the dried crusted breakfast dishes

and the dog hair courtesy of Used Dog

i only had eyes for a thrifty find

and my can of green paint

my thrifty find

was a wall sconce in brown metal,

upon discovering its charms on the shelf of despair

it told me it liked the colour green,

obviously i was left with no choice...

after two coats of 'once upon a time'

and a couple of vintage decals,

i was smitten,

completely and utterly

smitten with my new paint.

whilst driving home from Graduation,

i noted all the Freeway road signs in Seattle

are painted the same colour

as 'once upon a time'

she is thinking upon her return from across the pond, a certain cupboard in her laundry room would look peachy dressed in 'once upon a time' ~ Tif

footynote: if by chance you wish to paint a find in your life the same colour as Freeway road signs in Seattle, here's the nitty gritty

Benjamin Moore, Aura ~ semi gloss

574 once upon a time

rebellion in the shed...

its a little nutso at the shed, more so than usual. on Monday the green carpet of 30 years living upstairs, is being replaced by a beige carpet of 10 years with interesting self patterning courtesy of my lovely friend Maggi

on Wednesday evening, my man and i started the job of emptying three bedrooms worth of stuff and hauling it into the bonus room. Our #4 (newly aged 13) sat amongst his dwindling possessions, whilst nursing his broken toe acquired less than four hours before.

"why is everything we own look like it belonged to a granny, even the carpet we are getting is old and granny like?" he had a point, it does have a 'granny like' quality about it now i have inspected it closer, which of course i am delighted about.

he continued "every room we have is filled with old stuff, why don't we ever have gleaming new modern things?"

i looked around his room and noted he has an ikea bookcase and desk in white. the only thing remotely vintage in my mind within his four walls at that moment, was me, my man and an old pine chest of drawers loitering with intent to hold his clothes, however they have never made it that far.

i always saw ikea furniture as modern and new and i was now seeing a 'doubter' in my son.

gosh, he was my one who loved a thrifty hunt amongst the shelves of despair, finding great enjoyment with the crappity crap that lay before him. i chose to put it down to his broken toe, turning 13 and the black cloud above him talking. a rare thing indeed, for black clouds do not hangout over his head, in fact this maybe the first black cloud i have ever seen venture to do such a thing.

yesterday evening i voiced a need to go thrifting (two times in one day!), i am on a mission for materials and as is always the way, you can never find what you are looking for, only what you did not know you needed, like a cheap print of flowers in an iffy frame.

still i was going to give it a go.

"can i come?" he pipes up, which immediately made me suspect he had homework to do.

"how will you manage with your toe?" i ask

"i'll hobble around"

so i went 'a thrifting' this time with my pins of paleness and a companion hobbling. i found a forsaken little soul and he found a brilliant red Adidas jacket with LONDON appliquéd on the back and the skyline (including Big Ben) across the chest. it was in 'top notch' nick and a bobby bargain to boot. he was delighted and so was i.

ah yes, for second hand gods had intervened and his doubting ways were gone. just because something is second hand does not mean it has to be old or granny like. perfectly new looking goodness can be found too, he just needed a little reminder

someone who does not need reminding is Little Olive, who after a day of play yesterday, spent the evening wisely 'swaddled' in her home of secondhand goodness

she is most happy with the transformation of her secondhand, 'slightly kitsch' picture find of yesterday ~ Tif

pins of paleness...

today i have dared to pottle outside the shed with my pins of paleness.

a thrift store pottle no less.

happens every single year,

waiting and waiting for Mr Sun to show his warmth

and then he does,

thus resulting in me shedding my woolly skin of tights

and revealing my 'pins of paleness' to the world.

to add to my woes of exposure

the recurring issue of my undies has reoccurred.

no longer held in place by my woolly attire,

they are once again left to their own devices.

several pairs past their due date of 'high elastic retaining' qualities

are far to great a risk to wear.

the others though, i noted with their elastic still intact

appear to be a little snug,

"how can this be" i cried with alarm,

twirling around to catch a glimpse of my derrière.

i froze with shock,

for there lurking below my back was a friend,

a fast growing friend,

a 'bottom of great proportion' had attached himself to moi.

he was not there before.

i do not recall inviting him to join me

in any way, shape or form.

but then all became clear

as i frantically retraced my moments

of the past six hibernating months of winter.

i turned 42 in september.

there should be a book out,

perhaps there is.

"what to expect after 40"

turning 40: you may wish to cry, this is perfectly normal behavior for some one leaving their 'youth' behind. do not fret, it will pass

turning 41: you will by now have got over turning 40, however you may notice odd things like nostril hairs appearing. do not fret, do not renew your glasses prescription, live in denial, this is perfectly normal behavior

turning 42: your bottom will grow, you undies will dig in and sadly, your chest will stay alarming flat, thus highlighting the 'grandness' of your derrière. do not fret, nor weep. this is perfectly normal behavior for a bottom of your age. chose not to turn around and try to glimpse said growing bottom, for two reasons, it is behind you and therefore out of sight and out of mind. and secondly being 42 you now also have a jippy neck and back and it would not do to 'put it out' due to trying to glimpse your large new friend hanging on behind

turning 43: you will wake up and find your knees have disappeared...

and so forth.

yes, how brilliant is that, do you see dearest readers,

i have totally forgotten my pins of paleness now

by focusing on something else,

albeit my undies and my bottom

and indeed my peachy thrift store finds

hurrah hooray!

her lovely adopted auntie is coming for tea tomorrow ~ Tif

a 'stumble of the utmost kind'...

isn't that just the dandiest thing about thrifting,

you just never ever know what might find you.

truth be told it was total crappity crap at the thrift store last night.

shelf after shelf

rack after rack

and

rail after rail

filled to the brim with crappity crap.

however as is often the way,

just when you think your chances of finding 'a find worth finding' are done for,

a little face peeks out from amongst

the forsaken and the forgotten

not just any ordinary face but quite an extraordinary face,

actually i might just go as far as to call this face 'exotic'.

yes i will.

for as i exclaimed to my mother last night, upon discovery of this little face,

and today also to you, dearest readers

"well in all my born days i have never seen such a extraordinary forsaken soul!"

she is in terribly good nick considering she has had several children

and an itty bitty baby

but best of all

she is also most handy dandy

surely, surely i am not alone in exclaiming at her exotic writing abilities.

and that is why i like the thrift store,

why indeed i am an addict,

for until yesterday i had never ever seen such a peachy nesting doll

and even more so,

until yesterday i had never ever realized

i was in need of a peachy nesting doll with handy dandy built-in blue pencil

(obviously designed for special occasion writing)

but now i do!

and that for me,

is the wonder of a 'stumble of the utmost kind'...

a 'thrifty stumble'

she is giddy with the lovely 'shout out' from Victoria and is wishing you all perhaps a nice bit of stumbling of your own this weekend, most definitely not a traumatic stumbling, no sirree! for we do not like those kinds ~ TIF

blooming...

agreed agreed! most pants of me indeed dearest readers to not share my 'pantaloons of greatness' with you. to be truthful not a single clan member i asked late that day would record the moment for me. i am not sure if they just could not be bothered, or if they wished not to record my moment of pantaloon wearing to protect folks from the vision.

'tis neither here nor there, i will in due course produce photographic evidence of my 'pantaloons of greatness' (or as i am beginning to suspect 'glorified sweatpants') and you, dearest readers may be the judge and jury.

in the meantime can i show this pretty picture to make up for my lacking in 'pantaloon pictures'. this lovely little retro jug with the most spiffiest of rosey decals upon it, was picked up on my travels around old blighty a few weeks back. it truly made my heart sing when i spied it amongst the shelves of neglected china. it made my heart sing even more when i noted how well it suited my lovely plastic granny knicker pink flower and even kitschy-er doily which came from Spitalfields Market in London. they are now doing a peachy job of making this end of the kitchen look blooming lovely.

Mr Spring is still dragging his feet around these parts but not to worry, me and my folks have been working flat out with adding a 'blooming springy feel' out front of the shed the past few days and hope to continue doing so.

she has been told by those in the know, rain will stop the 'blooming work' tomorrow... how do they really know these things, do they just lick their fingers, pop them in the air and make it all up ~ Tif

vintage fabric heaven and Caravan...

i must confess to being distracted over the past few days by my little office space.

no longer Our #1's bedroom,

no longer a catch-all for my crappity crap

no longer with mauve walls to do my head in.

things are coming along a peachy treat and as i tippity type this little post in the corner of my new office space (gosh that does sound terribly businessy busy like doesn't it!) i am looking at freshly painted walls, old frames spiffied up, a nicely made bed in one corner for when Our #1 visits and in t'other corner, a place to house all my collection of lovely things to do with dottie angel stuff.

i will be sure to show you more but first shall we carry on with the thrilling adventures of Tif, Debbie, Lou Dearie and Our #1 in the big smoke? after all it is a day which will be forever etched on my little brain...

after our pottle around Spitalfields Market, Lou Dearie took us to 'vintage fabric heaven'.

now perhaps i need to tell a little tale within this tale for you to truly appreciate this moment. when the lovely Lou turned up in Seattle last September, she bought with her a suitcase full of vintage and retro fabric goodness, the likes of which i have never set eyes upon before. when she opened the lid to her case i can only liken it to the moment a lid is lifted off hidden buried treasure and a glorious light shines from within and angels chorus all around. well that was Lou's suitcase and as she lifted out the most wonderful bark cloth curtain with perfectly peachy rose clusters upon it, 13 dearies and myself gasped 'thee gasp'. after which Lou told me of a place, a place so splendid in it's retro vintage glory fabric goodness that she just knew i would think it was the closest thing to fabric heaven this side of the pearly gates.

roll on several months and here i was in London with my lovely day trip companions and embarking on what was to become one of my top ten all time besty best days ever. first Spitalfields Market and now a trip to vintage fabric heaven.

i have no idea where vintage fabric heaven is, Debbie and I dutifully followed Lou Dearie as she weaved through the side streets of London, Our #1 choosing to catch up with us later as she wished to check out the vintage stores along the way.

what can i say dearest readers, Lou did not disappoint. vintage fabric heaven was in a little side street, in a little shop crammed to the ceiling with piles of secondhand fabrics. all clean and folded and treated as they should be. sorted into piles of 'likeness'...

drawers overspilling with doilies and lace, granny blankets in a rainbow of colors, retro curtains and bark cloth yardage, all of which brought tears to my eyes.

we left vintage heaven with my purse a lot lighter and our hands a lot fuller...

feeling a little faint from two peachy ports of call and knowing we still had one port left to go, we found a lovely cafe to recharge our batteries and for me to yabber on and on about what we had seen and done whilst everyone else ate their lunch.

after which Lou had to leave, so we said our 'fare thee wells' and the three of us continued on our journey. our final port of call being the world of Emily Chalmers, Caravan. stepping off the street into Emily's shop was like stepping into a little imaginary world, Emily's lovely world. if you ever get a chance to visit then do so, for it is beautiful and interesting and quirky, just like Emily herself.

Emily was waiting for us, looking perfectly peachy whilst we looked windswept and bedraggled from our day out in blustery London, but such details did not matter, no sirree, what mattered was the wonderful couple of hours spent sitting and nattering over a cup of tea in Emily's room above the shop, marvelling over my vintage fabric haul, 'ooohing and ahhhing' over Emily's lovely collections and spending quality time together.

before we left the wonderful world of Caravan, Emily and myself had our photo taken by Leonard and he did a pretty good job considering the awe of the moment he needed to record. you will be able to see the results of the photo in my 'dottie angel' book alongside of Emily's lovely foreword she so kindly wrote for me.

and then we were on our way, off to catch a late train home to the suburbs. as we sat amongst other train travellers eating our M&S sandwiches and munching our crisps, i could but only marvel at how fortunate i was to be able to share this incredible day in my life with my soul sister and my eldest daughter.

knowing when i am old and grey, with perhaps a few marbles missing, i will be sure to tell the tale of this day to any passing random strangers who happen to pass by my granny chair in my old folks home. recalling the day i got to visit SpitalFields Market, Vintage Fabric Heaven and Emily Chalmer's peachy Caravan World many many moons ago. and when those passerbys doubt my 'tale' i will merely nod in the direction of the granny chair next to me and say

"if you do not believe me, then ask my soul sister, for she was there too..."

and we will smile the knowing smile that only soul sisters can smile who share a lifetime of memories

she is happily playing with her little forsaken souls and hopes to have results of said playing in the shop soon ~ Tif

footynote: upon my return to the shed i have noted gremlins are playing around with my shiny place, hence the lovely wide spacing between the sentences and other such mischief :)

be still my beating heart...

one peachy fine morning, Debbie, Our #1 and moi took a train to London to meet up with Lou Dearie. you know Lou, for she was the lovely dearie whom flew across the pond so she may beaver away with like minded souls last september in seattle.

well lovely Lou kindly offered to show us a little bit of vintage London and i can tell you dearest readers, she did not disappoint. our first port of call was Old Spitalfields Market on a thursday because that is vintage day! we spent many a peachy moment in vintage granny goodness heaven. actually just recalling Spitalfield Market with Lou has me overcome with giddiness, not to mention all the forsaken souls which whispered in my ear as i pottled around the stalls. words really cannot do the vintage goodness on display justice and so i think i will let Leonard and his Lens do the talking for today and i will be back with our second and third port of call on our spiffy day out to London, tomorrow...

she is wielding her paint brush in her new office space upstairs and things are beginning to look mighty fine ~ Tif

a happy ending...

these two found me one week apart in my local thrift store,

both waiting on the shelves of despair,

both in need.

Mr Monkey needed a new nose

Mrs Monkey needed a pair of new ears

and

they both needed love

nearly a year on,

i am delighted to report their love is still going strong.

however unbeknownst to me they had secretly wished to be parents

so when a little baby monkey found me today

whilst 'a pottling' around the thrift store,

their little secret wish came true

after a new pair of ears

i stood back to admire the family.

i noted how they looked made for each other

and how interestingly of all,

little baby wooden monkey's ears were

the color as his mothers

but the shape of his fathers

she now has 'we are family' and 'reunited' going round and around in her head ~ Tif

for the love of burke...

once again i found myself heading to the big city last week (with bangs to aid me) and once again i found myself lost. for the love of burke and his fabby chairs, i had no choice but to use my secondhand senses and deep breathing exercises to get back on route. after quite a few trips over bridges, in a large roundabout way i found myself where i wished to be with great relief.

i have only ever found one burke chair before, it was many, many moons ago, but all so clear like it were yesterday... how is it one can remember precisely the day and time one finds the most fabbiest of vintage finds and yet i cannot remember what i did yesterday or indeed need to be doing today or tomorrow. when i found the two burke chairs last week, they also came with a friend. i had not known about the friend until i turned up, but his little ugly duckling ways standing next to the two swans caught me unawares. my thrifty maternal instincts for all waifs and strays took a hold, especially when he swivelled so nicely upon introduction. i didn't stand a chance

back at the shed i unloaded my haul. i told myself this was madness, as i squeezed them into my studio and stared at their beauty, not knowing quite how i was going to disguise the fact i had bought yet more chairs into our nest. i decided to scatter them in different corners of the shed, thus giving the appearance they may have always been there, blending in amongst the other forsaken souls i have happened across in the past.

"ah ha" i exclaimed to myself, little olive (busy licking burke's legs) and used dog "a brilliantly brilliant plan if ever there was one!" i could tell they were most impressed with my cunning plan.

i also told them, i could not, would not, under any circumstances, never, ever touch the cushions until after Christmas, for my Mother Christmas duties were top priority over cushion slip covers, even i could see that. i noted both little olive and used dog were wearing smirks after i have finished my words.

after two hours i was twitching, after three i was rifling through my bark cloth stash and by the fourth hour, one burke chair was sporting a spiffy reversible jacket. i stood quietly back in amazement, for it fitted like a glove, a beautiful vintage bark cloth glove and i noted as i stood there, a small amount of glory shone around.

next day i told myself it would be madness (again) to leave the other chair without his little jacket, what if the good fortune sent by the handcrafted gods ran out, just thinking about it made me start to fret. if i did not get on with it hoppity quick then the gods may think i did not care for the 'fitting like a glove' gift they bestowed upon me and take it away! by the end of the day, two little 'gloves' were completed and shining away in the kitchen knook

alas, the ugly duckling awaits his transformation, the handcrafted gods have moved on to some other lucky crafting soul and i must await with patience for their return. whilst i am awaiting, i shall continue with my Mother Christmas duties and ponder what is best for the little ugly duckling so he too, may get his moment to shine...

she will be back tomorrow with something to share, something like she has never shared before ~ Tif

for the love of ercol...

for me, nothing says granny chic quite like vintage ercol.

on monday evening an ercol coffee table found me on Craigslist,

i gasped 'thee gasp',

for i have not seen the likes of such granniness this side of the pond,

ever, never, ever.

by tuesday morning i was plotting how to go and see it's loveliness

but not go alone.

for she was in the big city, in an area i was unfamiliar with.

i do not do freeway and city driving often,

if i do, there must be good reason for it.

my friend maggi planned to hold my hand,

but alas her little sprogs were sickly tuesday morning.

"what to do, what to do" i said to myself whilst wringing my hands.

i skyped with Our #1,

told her of my plight,

she rolled her eyes and quite rightly pointed out,

if at the age of 17 she was driving all over Seattle

then it would be quite possible aged 42,

i could manage such a feat.

i 'binged' a map,

studied the round trip in details,

wrote down my directions on the back of an old envelope.

then promptly my envelope was 'loved' by little olive

whilst i paced up and down my studio fretting,

knowing i had no choice but to go it alone.

after three and a half hours of build up

i left the comforts and safety of the shed,

Carlos my trusty camera by my side

and my slippers upon my feet (thread included)

i bravely travelled to the big city.

i noted i was going the speed limit and some were not.

i noted as soon as i got off the highway,

my envelope let me down

i was lost.

whilst lost and doing my breathing exercises,

i channelled my inner 'granny chic' radar sensor,

it did not let me down,

after several turns

i arrived at an emporium filled with secondhand goodness.

upon entering with Carlos in my pocket

and my slippers (thread still attached) upon my feet,

i knew my bravery had been rewarded.

arriving home at mossy shed, later in the afternoon

i cannot tell you which i was shaking more about,

knowing a little bit of ercol granny goodness was happily settling in.

or knowing after nearly 11 years of being a Brit living abroad in the surburbs,

i had finally faced my fears

travelling to the big city on my own

and making it home to tell the tale

she will be back tomorrow with day five of book week ~ Tif

42 and 1 day...

(warning : this post contains pictures from my local thrift store)

first and foremost,

thank you most kindly for your lovely birthday wishes!

you have been most thoughtful to me and my 42 year old self.

yesterday was a most peachy perfect day indeed.

Debbie's secretive secret work in the shed's kitchen

resulted in the most loveliest of lovely birthday cakes

complete with Cadbury's chocolate buttons.

we decided as it is not every day one turns 42,

it would be perfectly acceptable for us to not only

go to the local vintage mall,

but then pottle on down to the thrift store.

it seemed a most decadent thing to do...

and it certainly was a jolly good job we did

soon after entering the vintage mall

we stumbled across a little lost soul,

the little lost soul appeared most bewildered

upon close inspection it appeared his bewilderment was warranted.

his little pull along thread had been cut!!

'gasp, shock and a little bit of horror'

i said

"little lost doggie, do not cry nor be bewildered any longer,

come home with me to mossy shed

where i think i have a friend who will make you feel most at home."

and indeed since arriving back at the shed

little lost doggie with the cut off string is settling in most nicely.

Carlos my trusty camera, insisted on coming to the thrift store.

he felt it most important to capture the true size of my thrifty local,

for my lovely dearest readers.

as we were pottling around trying to get the best angle

it soon became clear we needed to disguise our intent,

therefore other thrifty folks would not think us complete bonkers.

pushing a cart along with us and filling it with goodies

seemed the perfect foil...

a nylon 'granny bed cover' kept distracting me from taking photos.

Debbie said i could ignore it no longer

it was speaking to me in the only way a granny chic item can.

i 'ummmed' and i 'ahhhhed'

then i thought

"well tis my first official day of being 42"

after making my monumental decision

we popped the contents of our cart

back on the shelves of despair,

(except for a few lovelies)

apologizing as we went about it.

Carlos then did his bit and we left homeward bound.

today it would appear Mr Lurgy has turned his attention to Debbie.

it is a horribly horrible thing to think Mr Lurgy

will now get a free ride on British Airways

and think of all those poor dearies in their seats

unknowingly becoming best friends with Mr Lurgy.

gosh he truly is a rotten scoundrel

we have tried to not think about such awfulness

and instead donned our 'elf workshop' hats.

Debbie has been in charge of cutting, pasting, typing and folding laundry,

i have been in charge of running around the shed like a headless chicken,

trying to find my 'dottie angel' workshop hat...

Debbie kindly ignored my headless state of mind

alas tomorrow my soul sister leaves and despite my heavy heart,

i must spend my day wisely

finishing up getting all my dottie angel goodness together

in preparation for this forthcoming friday

she is thinking next week will be a grand week to look back on her handcrafted secondhand year ~ Tif

yipee!!

after braving the freeway in the rain to get to the airport,

Debbie, Our #2 and moi arrived safely back at the shed last night.

upon arrival i made Debbie a nice welcoming orange meal...

since getting up this morning we have

nattered,

drunk tea

and nattered some more...

then dearest readers,

i am delighted to report

we got down to the business of thrifting.

i am not quite sure what Debbie will have to say

when she sees that Carlos my camera was stalking her

whilst she pottered along the aisles of forsaken china.

but this week i am in 'roving reporter' mode

(as we know, Tif likes her modes)

i was most delighted Debbie wore her green sweater

for there was no fear of losing her amongst the shelves of despair.

quite often i am unable to see what is lurking on the top shelf

but being lovely and tall, Debbie is most handy to have as a thrifting buddy

our little cart was soon filling up with treasures

so we discussed the merits of each and every find,

putting some back and spending our pennies wisely

for our week of fun has only just begun.

tomorrow, i am taking my soul sister to the exciting sights and sounds

of our local Department of Licensing 'beige and blah' office.

it has dawned on me with less than a few days until my birthday,

my drivers license will run out and then i will be in trouble.

i am not sure what kind of trouble

but none the less, the worry of possible trouble

is enough for me to drag her along for a morning of sitting in a waiting room.

however we will be wisely armed with our Mr Hooks to pass the time

and when the 'new license' is in my little mitts,

we will 'hoppity skip' it out of there

and straight to the thrift store i know of several blocks away

it may be raining outside the shed, but the sun is shining inside ~ Tif