JUNK IS WHERE YOU FIND IT

There's an old saying that 

one woman's junk is

another woman's treasure.

While I love, love, love estate sales,

I find lots of treasure in other places, too.

Thrift stores often get estate sale cast offs, or items

that are simply donated when 
heirs don't want to bother with a sale.  

While out junkin' today,  
I lucked onto some real gems at Goodwill.

And I do mean real gems.

I'm pretty sure the necklaces are genuine amethyst and drusy.

They're both weighty and "chink"  when knocked together.

They have smooth, glassy nuggets

with variations in color, no "seams" that would be
evident with manufactured reproductions.

The drusy even has areas of rock that weren't polished.

I will need to take them to a jeweler to make sure they are the real McCoy,
but even if they are, I'm pretty sure they don't count
as a pirate's real treasure.


That's fine with me.  
Without divulging my bottom line,
I made out like a good junker.
It's my treasure now.


Liz

ISABELLA BODY COMPANY

I have been a fan of whipped soaps

ever since I discovered them about a year ago.

I ordered them online from a lady who

really had me sold on her creamy scented concoctions.

However, I became uneasy after surfing her website.

It became apparent that she followed witchcraft, and while

she claimed that she didn't practice it herself,

some of her comments and product names indicated 

that she believed in magical powers divined through sorcery.

I am Christian, and I believe that the Bible teaches against

sorcery and witchcraft, so in all good conscience I knew 

that I couldn't continue buying products from her.

My hard earned money went to support a lifestyle
that I couldn't and wouldn't ever condone.

That's how Isabella Body Company got its start.

Over several months, I searched for a way 
to make my own bath and body

products and finally came up with 

whipped soaps and body butters that I loved
as much if not better than the ones I previously bought.

More importantly, my friends loved them as well, and they convinced 

me to open my own shop.

Right now I offer luxurious whipped soaps that are so
addictive with their creamy consistency and wonderful
fragrances.  Body butter, lotions, and bath salts will 
follow as I get my shop up and running.

I whip them up in my kitchen using my favorite vintage

milk glass mixing bowls and stainless steel utensils.

The fragrance oils and essential oils I use are chosen and

named by me, too.  I love naming my fragrances!

I also offer unique pendant necklaces with popular quotes
from movies and from scripture. 

This one is a quote from The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins.

I'm pretty excited about my new Etsy Shop.

You can find it here:

http://www.etsy.com/shop/IsabellaBodyCompany

Liz

AUDREY HEPBURN WAS IN A GARBAGE BAG

In my previous post, I wrote about

going to a picker's paradise:

the estate sale of a hoarder.

I seriously doubt that this person

hoarded in the same way

people do on the television show,

"Hoarders."

It didn't look that bad to me.

However, to be honest, I was only at the sale

on day two, and many rooms had

already been picked through, not to mention

previously been cleaned up by family and 

estate sale personnel.

Still, there were garbage bags and boxes galore

for pickers and junkers to sort through

and that was so much fun.

One would think an arachniphobic person like myself wouldn't step near

an old shed full of garbage bags and boxes of dirty stuff,

but I am proud to tell you that I actually poked and

dug happily away with no regard to eight-legged critters.

I was on a treasure hunt.

 And I found what I was looking for.

I found Audrey Hepburn.  

She was hiding in two different garbage bags full

of old clothes.  Some of the items were stained, torn, or covered with 

hairs of unidentifiable animals.  

But there was this one diamond-in-the-rough, in need of 

a good cleaning, but begging to be let out of the bag,

no pun intended.

Stunning silk brocade in Tiffanys blue. 

It didn't look this good when I found it and I wasn't

even sure if I could clean it up...it is silk afterall.

But a couple of runs through the handwash cycle in a 

modern front loader gentlly gave this ensemble

the TLC it needed.  

There is one slight stain near the bottom that wouldn't budge much.

But a person who sews could make a darling mini dress by

hemming just at the stain.

I still have my mother's old Singer sewing machine,

but alas, Home Ec wasn't the class I made A's in.

(Well, neither were the rest of my classes, but that's

a blog post best left to Tootie, that little stinker who

would just love to tell everyone about how I made C's in P.E.)

I'm really, really disappointed that the dress was too tight across the

shoulders for me, because I would soooo wear it for

Easter Sunday.

Everyone would want my autograph.

"Oh, Miss Hepburn!"

Now if only The Hub looked like Cary Grant...

LIZ

A JUNKER'S PERFECT STORM

A perfect storm is one in which
a rare combination of adverse meteorological factors
give rise to a particularly violent storm.
If there is an opposite to a perfect storm, it would have to be 
this past Saturday in Oklahoma:

A rare combination of clear blue skies, absolute calm weather,

 temps in the low 70's. ...and in March!

To a junker like me, it doesn't get any better.

Unless it is that extremely rare combination of

the above plus a HOARDER'S ESTATE SALE!

OH MYLANTA!

Before I go any farther, let me emphatically state

that I am not, nor have I ever been, a hoarder.

(My milk glass collection doesn't count, does it?)

But I truly love hoarders.

Sweet.  

Even the bed of the old pick up is full.

 I truly LOVE to dig, girls.

Which is why scenes like this 

don't daunt me in the least, master digger that I am.

In fact, I was salivating to get my grubby little paws

in every nook, cranny, and garbage bag full of treasure.

One should not expect neat and tidy at this kind of sale.

You want neat and tidy, go to Martha Stewart's house.

Hmmm, I suspect she hoards, too.

There's a fine line between collecting and hoarding, Martha.

(Hands off my milk glass.)

A one-armed beauty (not to be confused with Martha.)

The Hub would have you-know-what if I pulled into

the driveway with her in the front seat of my little red Honda.

(And he wonders why I want an SUV "at your age.")

I didn't leave this sale with an arm load of

treasure, as I had already blown 3/4 of my money

in the garden department at Lowes.  

(I am soooo easily distracted!)

But sometimes

the pleasure of the treasure is in the search,

and the two hours spent digging through

a hoarder's heaven was enough for me.

(In another post, I'll show you what I bought for $2)

Thanks to the ladies HERE who are so fun

to visit with and who ran this sale.

I tip my junker's hat to them for taking on such a task!

So, what does a junker do with her last $3?

Treat herself to junk food!

The perfect storm just got better.

LIZ

OH THE JOY OF CHILDHOOD CHRISTMAS

I am passionate about vintage ornaments!

I guess it stems from evenings of Decembers past,

a child lying on her back on the floor, looking up into the branches of a skinny piney tree

at all the glass ornaments twinkling brightly in the soft glow of bubble lights.

Pink and aqua and turquoise and red 

and green and gold and silver.

Pure nostalgia.

That's why I sail right on by the pretty crystal laid out on tables next to

ornate candlesticks and decorative china at estate sales.

That's why I zoom past the dealers snatching up signed pottery and

original artwork, and head straight for the garage

to dig through ordinary cardboard boxes and crumpled paper sacks.

Because I know what I'm looking for.

I know what I want.

These little jewels called Shiney Brites.

Shiney little balls of glittered glass.

Pure Nostalgia.

And listed for sale in The Passionate Flea.

I just love these.  

LIZ