Foul smell, foul sale

Today started out as a disaster, junk wise. There was only one estate sale listed and it was a total bust. It was the kind of sale where the prices are so high, your blood starts to boil. The kind where a small, chipped Roseville vase was priced at $65. The kind where, when seeing me looking at a vintage Christmas doodad, the woman running the sale says: "I picked that up in Paris." Please. I wanted to say, "Well honey, you better get a crate ready 'cause you're going to be shipping all this overpriced crap back there!"

In the basement, I was snorting and sneering about the prices to Beth and Gail. I even said (very loudly) that the place smelled like cat urine. There was another gal lurking...I assumed she was another shopper. As we started to stomp out of the place in righteous indignation, the gal said sarcastically "Thanks for stopping by!" Only then did I twig that she was working the sale &/or was the homeowner. Oooops!

Anywho, on my way home, I stopped at a local thrift which is always hit and miss. Today I hit.

2 glass flower frogs, silver plate sugar & creamer, and stylish candle holder, vintage vanity jar,

bowl of cherries, sweet little purple basket, a 1970's era pie plate for Thanksgiving and the largest strainer known to man. Not such a bad haul after all!