Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Appliances, alarm clocks, record players, and printers


This fine Saturday morning I was at a garage sale at the Doctor's Lot-- a popular place in town for locals to put up there sales. I was perusing the goods when I noticed that this young woman had a alarm clock radio like mine for sale. She wanted a few dollars and I told her that it was worth more than that if it worked. She indicated that it did. I smiled. In 1992, I was in college and lived in a quad dorm room. My roommate at the time, a biology major named Stephani, was graduating and getting rid of her stuff. She gave me her clock radio and asked me to think of her when I use it. 18 years later, that same clock radio sits next to my bed, I smack the snooze button 5 times everyday before getting up. That is my routine and has been for as long as I can remember. For 18 years, this clock has not let me down. The radio has a wire antennae that I string into a vases of dried flowers next to my bed. This allows me to pick up the local NPR station so I can listen to Garrison Keilor's morning almanac every morning. This radio has moved with me through graduate school, different states, summer camps, and now here in the mountains. What a treasure! Later on Saturday afternoon, I was purging and decided to finally get rid of the printer that I had bought last May because no matter if I stood on my tippy toes and held a ballerina pose for 10 minutes, this printer would no longer print. It had been a little over 12 months since I had purchased it and of course, the 1 year warranty was no longer applicable. I had no choice but to send it to recycling heaven. This printer had not been used everyday and spent most of its time in the guest bedroom, unplugged and waiting to be used. I qualify it as a piece of junk. I bought it brand new off the shelves at our local Staples store. What a shame that manufacturers no longer make quality products. It is too bad that the whole neighborhood could not share a printer like my office does. We will not replace the printer, rather we will use the local library or the university for our printing needs.Last weekend, a Sunday morning show on NPR had a discussion about this throw- away culture of manufacturing. They made the point that just 20 plus years ago, electronics, televisions, VCR's, stereos, etc...., were made to have replacement parts put into them. Now, all of these manufactured goods are glued together and no longer have replacement parts, rather the consumer has to buy replacement items. This turns my thrifty stomach. My husband is an avid vintage stereo equipment buyer. We have speakers that were built in the 70's and 80's. They might be larger than what people prefer today, but they sound great and they work and have worked for over 30 or 40 years. Our record players date back to the late 80's. My mother had the same stove for over 30 years. I drive a 95 Corolla because I don't like all of the things that go wrong with the electronic systems on new cars. It really does stop and make you think. It takes your breath away. It puts credence in the saying "An oldie but goodie". Amen to that......... and Amen to those of us who choose not participate in this type of consumerism. We would love to hear your stories about old appliances, cars, computers, etc... and your thoughts on the "throw away culture". Feel free to respond on the fan page and begin the conversation. Happy Hunting!




Rosie W. shares the same passion for “reuse and recycle”, and an enduring love for older well- made appliances. Our stove is more than 30 years old. It was in the house at the time of purchase in 1978, and with a few replaced elements it continues to simmer on. Same with the Oster blender; it must be from the early ‘60’s as it was won by my dad in a golf tournament. The glass container has been replaced due to breakage, but the motor purrs, whips and stirs like new; and I should note that I’ve been able to find all replacement containers by shopping with focus at thrift stores or sales.
I always stock up on coffee grinders when they appear for $1. Why spend $20? This provides extras for grinding spices or to pack for road trips.
During last winter’s ice storm I found solace in using the hand cranked LLBean radio I found at a sale. We sat by candlelight and cranked it every few minutes to catch the updates about storm damage.
And then there’s the old Philco tabletop radio, encased in wood, with the tubes in back. It’s basically a conversation piece, but if needed it continues to work. This was a treasure plucked from someone’s garbage in New England in the early ‘70’s.
My desk lamp is an old Tensor lamp. It was made in Brooklyn, New York, (my birthplace), and found at the West Jefferson Methodist sale several years back. It’s sturdy and shows no signs of pooping out any time soon.
If we can avoid big box stores, “stuff” made in China, and throwaway gizmos our landfills and the environment may stand a chance. Anyone else on board?

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

The Thrift Store Desert

When I was a child growing up in the flatlands of Illinois, I truly enjoyed roaming the freshly plowed fields looking for arrowheads. My family owned a piece of property that was known as an area full of Native American artifacts. Farmers had been finding them for years. I began hunting arrowheads at the young age of 6, often not finding anything, but always content to look. After school, on weekends, through the summer harvest, etc…… As I got older, I found that I could look in the stream at the bottom of the hill and find arrowheads and stone tools there as well. I could do this at anytime and it became my new hang out. I think that rock hunting served a purpose to get me out of a house of 5 children and give me some alone time. At times, I became tired of looking and my curiosity waned and wavered. Then, just as I felt distraught and ready to quit rock hunting for good, I would find that almost perfect arrowhead. With my new treasure to add to the collection, my vigor for the hunt would renew. I wanted to take a minute and reflect on this because I find myself going through the same cycle with the garage sale/thrift store hunt. I now search for other things (but if given the opportunity, I would still go out daily to look for rocks and arrowheads) and it seems that when you have to find something , like a pair of shoes for a wedding to match your nice dress, on a timeline—you can’t find it no matter how many places you look. And when you are least expecting it ---and don’t need it by Saturday---- the perfect pair of shoes will show up. Sometimes I wonder if it is kharma, sometimes I wonder if it is luck, sometimes I wonder if us hunters are really just “sick” and as Rosie W. says "need to go to a therapy group for our addiction”, but in the end when the hunt is satisfying, the sense of accomplishment is palatable. As Rosie W. commented that the beginning of the season has been lukewarm, I told her that for a couple for weeks there, I felt like we were in the desert of thrifting. No matter how early I got up on Saturday and how many counties I thrifted in, I could not find some precise items that I was looking for. Believe me, these items were not that unique and typically abundant. I had hit a level of high frustration and wondered, why was I putting all of this energy into the hunt and not getting anything out of it other than an empty tank of gas and a weary spirit. I know a lot of folks go through this and give up. My wonderful husband knew that I was feeling unsuccessful and decided to take me thrifting in Wilkesboro for my birthday and we hit the jackpot, an oasis in the middle of the thrift store desert. I was instantly renewed. Practice makes perfect is what I try and remind myself when the hunting gets tough. I am building skills looking. Honing in on how quick my eye can pick out certain fabrics, colors, styles, etc—I am training myself how to scan lots of items quickly and move in for the buy swiftly. Practice makes perfect even when you are tired and disheartened. Hang in there hunters, your oasis may be at the next stop.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Memorial Day Mis-Adventures

It was the sign. My heart sank, and I felt duped. The sign ( no color or pizzaz) was obviously one that has been reused many a time for a Yard Sale and I knew that chances for finding a treasure were slim. I followed the arrows anyway; drove up and down, around and around, finally ending up on a beautiful ridge top dotted with lovely homes. Sure enough, the sale was a wash out with everything way too neatly arranged, sterile, and awfully over priced. And I had driven miles beyond town for this one. Not good.
Even with this one a bust I gambled on one more sale on the back roads. Mistake number two. Deeper and darker I went into the countryside; the road turned to gravel, but eventually I found the spot nestled back in a holler. This sale at least had a “free” box so I picked up some plates for a friend, and feeling a tad guilty about taking something for free I bought a ceramic chip and dip platter.
These wasted hours followed an early morning arrival at the Boone Methodist sale where I stood in line with the crowd until the doors opened at 7:30 am. The initial “rush” of the hunt soon turned to disappointment .The usual treasures that one expects to find as an early bird customer were just not there. One signed print for $2 is the best I can boast for a bargain. Books were plentiful at this sale, but a strange range of subjects; biography of Pope John Paul XXIII and Manual for Animal Control Laws to name a few. I did return to the sale late Saturday morning when prices were reduced and I managed to stuff a bag for $5. While I stuffed, one of the ladies commented, “you look like you know what you’re doing”. Oh, if she ONLY knew. Bag sales mean that you have to master the art of tightly rolling up clothing to get your money’s worth, and these are the sales that I end up stuffing the bags with items for friends near and far.
The High Country Caregivers sale was “okay”, but again no treasures. The stuff a bag was $2 there and the best item I found was a beautiful FLAX top (not my size) that will go to a friend.

Overall, this season is not starting off with a bang in the High Country. Even the local thrift stores don’t seem to have the usual abundance of treasures. The economy maybe, or is it that the Rosies are just getting more selective? We will keep you posted.