I took off from work this week, so I've been trolling any and all thrift stores, antique stores and flea markets that still have at least one vendor with a pulse. My husband, Chris, and I drove 90 minutes to the Mondays-only Perkiomenville Auction & Flea Market. We've been there a few times before. I found this cute aqua bistro chair there, along with the mirror, Pyrex bowl, 1930 Kodak camera and red stool. The rest I found at various sales during the past few weeks.
I think the mirror was originally a long skinny window. At some point, someone added a narrow shelf to the top and a couple of hooks to the bottom corners:
I've bought and sold stools similar to this one in the past. It is always a favorite:
That wooden box under the aqua folding chair used to look like this:
But after a few minutes of scrubbing off the layers of muck, I was able to see the painted letters: "From Wm. H. Ottemiller, Co. York, PA". A quick Google search lead me to a 1913 trade magazine called "The Iron Age", which mentioned the construction of the new William Ottemiller building for the manufacture of hardware.
The Pyrex blue polka dot bowl joins the other two that I bought separately over the last few years. I've been holding onto the orange and yellow bowls in the hopes of finding the other two bowls in the set: blue and green. The green one seems to be the hardest to find (although there are a few on ebay). This Pyrex pattern is actually called "New Dot", and you can read all about it on the Pyrex Love website.
On Sunday, I went to the holiday open house at Cottage Home, the lovely store of my friend, Gloria, and her daughter, Alison. On the way there, I saw a sign that said "Barn Sale". I know. That is the equivalent of a sign that reads "Buy one baggie of meth, get one free" to a junkie. (Wait - does meth even come in baggies?)
Anyway, the owner of the barn does clean-outs of local estates. He had just cleaned out the home of a woman who was obviously a doll hoarder. There had to be at least 300 dolls in their original boxes. All types - Barbie, porcelain, antique and toy baby dolls. Maeve was with me, which meant that I had to buy her something in order to buy myself some digging time. She found a 1992 Romantic Bride Barbie still in the box for two bucks.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find anything non-doll-ish under the piles and piles of dolls. Then I spotted this sign by the barn door:
It's a sign that probably hung on the boardwalk in Atlantic City. Two bucks! I am keeping it.
And then, at the flea market, I found a bunch of these adorable coasters, also straight from the Jersey Shore, circa 1955:
Each packet is a little postcard! The back has a place for a stamp and an address. I am in love with them because they bring me back to my days at the beach.
I've mentioned in the past that I spent my childhood summers in Brigantine, New Jersey, which is the island town just north of Atlantic City. We spent those summers in the house that my dad's parents bought in 1955 for like five dollars. My dad grew up in Philadelphia, but spent his summers in Brigantine. When he was old enough, he became a "mascot" (a junior lifeguard) and eventually, a real lifeguard. Like any lifeguard worth his salt, my dad has a story about how he saved people from drowning.
Our family refers to this as The Rescue Story. It is a totally true story where my dad and a few other lifeguards rescued lots and lots of people after a huge wave knocked them out. It was a big deal and he was commended by local politicians.
My dad loves to tell The Rescue Story. And with each telling comes a new detail that we never heard before. Like, there were 50 people in the water instead of the original number of 25. And of those 50, seven were women in labor. He delivered all of the babies while simultaneously dragging swimmers from the angry ocean. After the seventh baby was delivered, a giant squid appeared from nowhere and attempted to pull the babies out to sea. My dad wrestled the squid and plucked off each of its tentacles. Just when he thought the nightmare was over, a megalodon with a taste for tourists swam up and tried to eat everyone in one bite. My dad punched it in the face and the prehistoric beast cowered and swam back to the depths of the ocean.
The next day, my dad bought one of those souvenir coaster postcards. He addressed it to "That Big Pussy Shark at the Bottom of the Atlantic" and popped it in the mail to let all of the ocean know that he was the new sheriff in town.
So, if you ever meet my dad, make sure you ask him about The Rescue Story. You never know what you are going to hear.