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the road to the future ends at the junkyard

Behold: the Junkyard.



The As-Is Lot at the back of the Casa de los Ninos Thrift Store. Jack and I have scavenged tons of great treasures here. Some days you go in and there's nothing. Just total garbage. Other days you go in and it's a wonderland. We went last Thursday, the first day of our four-day Rodeo Weekend (does anybody ever actually go to the Rodeo?). It was packed with junk that made us laugh, but little we wanted to take home.


First up: Brandon's yearbook: The Road to the Future! Apparently Brandon was "a pimpin' kind of guy ... a real white chilli dog." Many of his classmates urged him to have a "kick-ass summer," and one of his classmates complimented him on his "ass that doesn't quit."


If Brandon had had any idea Aunt Bin and I would be cackling over his Road to the Future, he would have burned it instead of donating it to the thrift store.


Apparently the Junkyard is the final resting place of used bathroom fixtures...


...and golf bags...


...and all the skis, ski boots, and ski poles in Tucson.


Evan said they help him walk on water.


Jack set himself adrift on the seat of an office chair balanced carefully on a pulled-out hide-a-bed. With great seriousness he leafed through a sodden book.


Why do I let my son do this? I don't know.

Comments

sulu-design said…
Oh, the stories he'll be able to tell about his childhood when he's older - stories of sitting on old mattresses, reading wet books... it may sound bizarre, but I think it's just perfect. What fascination and curiosity you nurture in him! And a wise sense of reuse and thriftiness, too. I applaud you.
Gina said…
Ah, what memories you give me of Tucson! I remember all those thrift stores so fondly. I believe it was at this particular thrift that I found an old Hi-Fi that I finally gave back to the thrifts in Indiana a few years ago.

I love the ski/poles picture!

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the more things change...

So many reasons it's been a long time since we took the boys out thrift store shopping. Yesterday, Tuesday, both of us had a full day off to spend as we pleased.


First we ate at Chaffin's Diner. They seated us in the less-dinery back room, which ended up being a good thing because we sat directly beneath a fan and didn't notice so much the heat. E drank decaff coffee with cream. I didn't notice sugar. Decaff, like his Uncle D. Coffee, like his Mimi.



We hit Shop for a Cause first, where the boys found nothing and subsequently sulked.



Next we pulled into the Humane Society Thrift Store, which I haven't visited in a long time. Historically I haven't found anything there.



Today we hit the treasure jackpot.



A $2 Ziploc bag containing the comprehensive plastic presidential contingent from Washington through Eisenhower.



Of course E had them ordered in a matter of moments.



Finally we escaped the store with a trove of treasures (more than I've found in one place in …

my favorite

Sometimes I dream of operating a food truck specializing in gourmet wok-popped popcorn.

wotd: temporize

temporize \TEM-puh-ryz\, intransitive verb:
1. To be indecisive or evasive in order to gain time or delay action.
2. To comply with the time or occasion; to yield to prevailing opinion or circumstances.
3. To engage in discussions or negotiations so as to gain time (usually followed by 'with').
4. To come to terms (usually followed by 'with').

It's easy to tell yourself that you'll write a daily blog entry using the word of the day from dictionary(dot)com as a prompt, and equally easy to temporize your daily entry by waffling over what to write about, or evading your obligation by procrastination. There. Bedtime.