adventures in thrifting : 1

i have a problem.
an addiction, really.
i've come to terms with it and i'm ready to be out in the open about it.
i'm addicted to thrifting.
the thrill of the hunt.
the splendor of emerging victorious
holding bags of what others have deemed "junk" as my trophies.
i like stuff.
digging, scrounging, pilfering.
it's all a bit dirty
i go armed with germ-x and clorox wipes.
do i disgust you?
so what.
i'm not looking for rehabilitation.
just a place to share, or air, my latest best finds.
maybe that's my attempt to assign my "problem" some sort of validity
beyond the high i get.
whatever it is, here we go.

i actually really loved the gilt on this frame,
but the shape was too perfect for nikki's new room
and gold just didn't work in there.

so out came the can of pink spray paint.

i dare you to find a better mirror for a 7-year-old-girl's room.
(plus i talked them down ten bucks to fifteen)
yes, you can haggle at thrift stores.



this poor baby has to put up with A LOT.
i just can't help myself.


she's fiiiiiiiiiive!!

oh, whitney. what to say about whitney?
i think she was a cat in another life.
evidence: scaling six foot walls...
wearing roller skates?

but she LOOOVES the water, so maybe a fish?
and endless energy. forever and ever and ever and.....
monkey, possibly?

this is totally typical : smearing her older brother and sisters in a foot race. she's got speed.
which feeds my anxieties of taking her to public places.
she never walks. every jaunt from A to B is accomplished at a full sprint on the balls of her feet.
plus she's stealthy. speed and stealth. a very bad combination, for me.
especially while shopping.
but then there's this sweetness,

and this goofiness,

and this readiness for whatever,

and this curiosity

that make all the anxieties and frustrations that her little quirks bring to her imperfect and less than patient mother over and above worth having and loving her.
and we do love her.
happy birthday, baby.
over and over and over again.