Yardsale fashion and Pirates

Jesus, it was hot yesterday. By 9AM it was about 120 degrees. Seriously. And I was not dressed for the weather. How could one be dressed for such weather? To be comfortable in this weather one would have to be naked and submersed in water.

A word about yardsale fashion: practicality reigns. I require pockets in the article of clothing I choose. This could be a skirt, pants, or shorts, but there must be pockets. And these pockets must be deep enough for the important items I carry when I yardsale. I have a pre-determined organizational system of pocket filling so I can locate these things in seconds during a crucial yardsale negotiation. Here is a map of my pocket organization system:

As you can see, my cell phone goes in the front right pocket. Cash, usually 2 dozen singles and as many quarters, goes in the front left. Back right holds my bright yellow Yardsale Adventures blog web address cards which I distribute widely. The back left pocket is intentionally left empty for possible yardsaling contingencies.

In addition to the pocket requirement, the clothes I select must be comfortable. We are in and out of the car many, many times during each yardsale adventure and my clothes must allow for full range of movement. Also, I sometimes have to run from sale to sale or jump wildly in the air to express my excitement. Finally, the clothes worn for yardsaling must be reasonably attractive because, as you know, I am sometimes recognized by YSA fans and want to make a nice impression.

So yesterday I chose a cotton, tank-style blouse (25 cents) in a navy fabric with teal polka dots. I pared it with Gap Long and Lean jeans ($1) bought last week at a yardsale. At 6AM the outfit met all my YSA fashion requirements. But by 8AM, the heat of the day had made me sweat profusely and this caused my jeans to stretch and sag so much that they were falling down. Sure, the pockets were deep enough, but the weight of the phone/cash/cards combined with the sweaty sagginess made me almost drop my drawers. Laura too had a pants problem. But hers was just because she is skinny. Here we are demonstrating the falling-down-ness of our pants.

We started late, as Laura said, but only a few minutes late. We arrived at the first sale of the day at 7:05, caffeine surging through our veins, our enthusiasm uncontainable. We saw the two local celebrities Laura mentioned. I bought a metal bowl. Moving on!!

I switched to Diet Pepsi. After 2 large mugs of coffee to start the day I need to cool off with the bittersweet effervescence of a diet cola. Maybe 3 diet colas. Especially on yardsale mornings. Hyper-activity is part of the fun.

So we sped to The Ogles. Samantha dropped little pieces of organic, high-fiber muffin out her window as we wound around, looking for the "multi-street sale" advertised on the main drag. We figured a trail of breadcrumbs was our only hope of ever getting out of The Ogles, a neighborhood that has held us temporarily captive more times than I can remember.

The Ogles's sales were plentiful and robust. This is where Laura scored the bag-o-Bakugon, that lucky duck. I think I bought some Tupperware. But by far, the zenith of this neighborhood sale was when Samantha hit the baby-supply-jackpot: a Boppy, a bouncy seat, an Eddie Bauer portable crib, and a box of 100 size 1 diapers. I think she paid $20 for the lot.

But the most blog-worthy site in The Ogles was this collection of cookie jars:

This represents a mere third of the owner's collection. For $15 each, or three for $25, you can have Big Bird, Donald Duck, or Santa Claus house your cookies. You could store your cookies in a barbershop pole canister. A lighthouse could conceal your fresh baked treats. I wonder how much she would accept for the whole collection? A more thorough photo journalist than I would have asked this question and more. Alas.

The church rummage sale started at 8 so we skibbled on over there, quick like a bunny. Now the 2 cups of coffee and the 3 Diet Pepsis had done their thing and I had to pee. A church rummage sale is a yardsaler's haven because it always offers three things: shelter from the elements, a hearty bake sale, and guilt-free access to restrooms. But Calgary Lutheran had taped the restrooms shut! And their bake sale was actually a hot dog sale. Thankfully they had the air condition running strong so we were offered a reprieve from the steam bath outside. As I crossed my legs in urinary discomfort, I found only a few things to buy. The purple shoes in Laura's post were noteworthy. I found a few components for my pirate ensemble (more on that later!) But we were in and out of that place in no time, running across the parking lot to the coffee shop where their restroom was, mercifully, open for business. In celebration of my physical release I bought a giant rice crispy treat and a Diet Coke.

Refreshed by the refreshments at The Abbey, we hauled ass over to Chenot Place. But skivs abound on a hot, summer Saturday, and we were sidetracked in downtown Belleville. This sale called to us like a siren, its 30 vintage hats whispering promises of love:

I zippety-quick got on the phone with Stacey, our friend who appreciates and collects vintage hats. I can happily report that we were successful in making a love connection between Stacey and the hats. She bought 6.

In Chenot Place I finally bought a belt to hold up the sagging jeans. It is a white, braided leather number which didn't jump out at me as the most chic accessory I could have chosen but it got the job done.

Now, about the pirates.

Last fall I found a message in a bottle on my front porch:

It said, "You are invited to spend a day on a pirate ship! This voucher good for one adventure on Lake of Egypt during the 2010 sailing season." Remember Pam of Save-the-World, Help-the-Klekners, Nov. 2009? This was her way of thanking me for helping her liquidate her household inventory before she moved. My family and I were to spend the night at her lake house and ride on her pontoon boat which was disguised as a pirate ship. Here it is:

I should mention that the lake house and the ship also belong to Dave, Pam's husband. Dave is a creative genius and probably invented this whole pirate pontoon thing.

We were instructed to arrive in costume. So during my morning of yardsaling I was searching for pirate-y components for our vacation wardrobes. I was able to buy a few shirts, a vest, and a couple of sashes. Total cost: $4.35. During the drive down to the lake I used child safety scissors to strategically cut and shred the clothes to make 7 pirate costumes for my family. Pam had earrings, necklaces, and eye patches ready for us. Here we are:

We pillaged and plundered. We shot canons at the enemy. We shouted "aaargh" and "shiver me timbers" through my new megaphone at passing boats. We were a fearsome crew. We ran ashore at the dock of some neighbors, where we walked the plank (jumped from the roof of their dock).

In the lower level of these neighbors' lake house is a treasure the owners scored for free from Laura. She garbage picked this vanity. What once was unwanted trash now nobly enhances the rustic elegance of Kris and Matt's cabin:

Until next week, faithful readers.

Nancy