Trifling, or, Where Stuff Goes To Die

As many people know about the Peapod, she likes thrift stores. she likes rummaging through assorted bits of junk and finding a pearl. Perhaps it is some wierd cro-magnon hunter-gather gene that she has, but, she really gets a charge out of finding something really really spiffy. Peapod’s best find to date is a Gorham solid sterling silver spoon, in the “Lily-of-the-Valley” pattern. she got it for a dime.

Anyway…

Everyone knows what a thrift store is…sort of a stationary yard sale, a brick-and-mortar church jumble sale. They are set up along the lines of a regular store, but, everything in there is generally twenty-five years out of date.

A thrift store is the repository of chiffon bathrobes from 1950, apple-seed necklaces, and eight-track tapes. Some are more organized and clean than others.

Peapod went on an adventure this week…a bittersweet foray into the land where out of date and broken stuff goes to die…

The local Salvation Army has an “as-is” store. The name seems redundant to her, as all thrift stores, and yard sales are, by definintion “as-is”. That seems to be the point of them. she doesn’t think that someone would plunk down fifty cents for a tricycle with two wheels thinking it was some sort of obscure bicycle. No, they bought it for parts, because goodness knows real red metal tricycles are hard to come by these days.

This place that she went to was more like Watto’s Junk yard, minus of course, the power generators. Or, maybe there were power generators, and she just missed them in the general confusion.

Essentially, this “store” is a garage, with boxes of stuff in it. Headless dolls cheek-by-jowl with china in various states of chippedness alongside cheeseboards and broken fondue pots from 1970. It is everyone root for themselves. Nothing even has a price on it. If you find something whole, and you want it, you take your stuff to the counter, where a bored cashier glances at your accumulated stuff and charges you a few bucks.

she had a good time, but, when she was done, she needed to wash her hands. A *lot*.

From this last outpost of fifth, or perhaps sixth hand stuff, she did come away with a few treasures…a hand thrown pottery pie plate, and a pfaltzgraff bowl which she intends to let her herd of cats eat out of. her big find of the excursion though, and oddly enough the thing responsible for such a long, useless and nattering post, was a brand new, still in the box crystal trifle bowl.

she can hear the british among you licking your lips. 🙂

Of course, now that she *has* trifle bowl, she finds that she has to make trifle. And, with the upcoming Independence Day holiday, what better time to trot out a red-white-and blue themed trifle? she spent the morning making real pound cake…well, *half* poundcake. she didn’t need a four pound cake lurking about, so she made it with only half a pound each of eggs, flour, sugar and butter. On tuesday, she will make her custard, and then set about layering everything with strawberries and blueberries for that whole patriotic-themed dessert.

It ought to be a nice finish.

Speaking of finishing, she ought to stop rambling, and go slice and sugar her strawberries.

Leave a Reply