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Steals & Deals

May 31, 2011

I am not a yard sale shopper.

Lots of my thrifty friends thrive on ’em. They load up before dawn on Saturday morning, hit Mickey D’s with their two-for-one iced latte coupons, and then spend the remainder of the morning crawling the toniest neighborhoods for steals and deals.

I say…bah humsale.

I’ve got enough of my own old s&*t…why would I want to buy somebody else’s?

Now that’s not to say I can’t appreciate someone else’s thrift store/yard sale find.

One of my friends has this knack for finding “pieces” that I would douse with charcoal starter and roast marshmallows over. But she brings them home, and with a wave of her magic sander and her charmed paintbrush, turns them into something really really amazing.

I think her DNA has a Restoration gene that I don’t possess.

So that being said…you’ll know that last Friday evening I did NOT scream “STOP!!!” at the top of my very powerful lungs when The Hubster and I cruised past a yard sale being set up for the following morning.

Even though I could clearly see this very cool and very appealing sight…

The Hubster, however, did.

“Hey,” he said. “Turn around. I wanna check out that tool chest.”

And so I did. And while he was checking out the tool chest, I was checking out a matching set of patio chairs…two rockers and four regulars. All which had that very-appealing-to-me fleur de lis detail on the back. (I am, despite all my attempts at other styles, a traditional girl at heart.)

And then I stumbled on the matching table, almost completely hidden by mounds and mounds of  infant and toddler clothing which wouldn’t cover even a toe nail on either of my kids much less a single part of their giant bodies.

And out of curiosity I asked the guy, “How much for the table and chairs?”

“Eight five,” he replies.

I stood there for a moment, not sure I understood him.

“Eight five dollars?” I repeated, obviously stupidly, because he looked at me like I’d just fallen out of the back of the short bus.

“Yeah,” he says.

“For the table and the chairs? Together?” I asked, once again earning that special look of his.

“Yeah,” he says.

“SOLD!!!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, startling The Hubster so much he almost knocked over the humongous red Craftsman tool chest he was inspecting. (Which, btw, went home with us for $45.)

The table, as it turns out, was missing three tiles.

No biggie. A trip to Blue and five bucks later, this great table is sitting beneath the huge pecan tree in our yard. (Along with six matching chairs).

(Ignore the rolled up bandanna lying on the table…it’s what every fashionable woman wears after she’s watched two DIY shows and thinks she knows how to do something.)

It’s not in perfect shape…one of the rockers has a bit of a dent across the top…

and there are a few scrapes and scratches here and there.  Nothing a can of spray paint won’t take of…

And I, lucky lucky I, have an awesome new outdoor dining set. I see a “real” patio and a pergola in my some-day-in-the-future.

I think I may have to start clipping latte coupons.


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