I Can't Take It With Me Sale!

I may have brought it all back home with me, but I can't take it with me on the road trip. Here is a notice for my upcoming end-of-summer garage sale.

Still tagging,
Marjorie

The Summer Parasol

That's my grandmother, Florence Hubbard, (holding the second parasol on the right) at her Wellesley College Reunion.

I don't remember her, but the family cottage is full of her mementos.

Her school books, mostly on the subjects of Art and Natural History, have always resided on a shelf next to the fireplace. And in a dark corner in the hall, as if waiting for her return, is her parasol. It is there that I discovered it one summer, and it soon became a constant childhood companion. How did that fragile paper confection survive its career as a prop for my daily whirling, twirling and dancing on the lawn, fashion shows, theatre productions and dress-up parties? In quiet times, it shaded and guarded me from the noonday sun. This is one special family keepsake which will definitely not make this summer's garage sale. So its back to your corner, Dear Friend. Be patient, the next generation - little Emma, Mila or Lila Grace will soon discover your hiding place.

Still Whirling and Twirling,
Marjorie

Just an Old Bag

It's not just any old bag mind you, but a special gift from a dear friend. This old handbag has my name on it. And when Bethany found it at a local estate sale, she knew I just had to have it. The previous owner, another Marjorie, adorned the front with our name in various colors and lettering styles. It seems she was a bit of a frustrated artist too. Over the years she lovingly mended the plastic trim with black electrical tape, in an effort to replicate the faux black plastic trim. This funky old bag is a reminder of just who I am, and never fails to bring a smile to my face.

With a bag full of love and gratitude,
Marjorie

Le Garage Sale

Tis the season for garage sales. Every week the local newspaper arrives groaning with listings. And I ask myself: "Sale or No Sale?"

My adventures with garage sales began some years ago when I purchased the contents of an old house. That summer was spent cleaning the house out, and come fall I held a mega garage sale. I proudly sold antique white Victorian clothing for $1. a piece, and gave away box after box of old paper ephemera away. Since those days, I've become a bit more sale savy, and have hosted garage sales in just about every place I've ever lived.

I smile when I remember the garage sale in our apartment in Beijing (on the 18th floor of a highrise "foreigners" building). After hours, the doorbell rang, and in danced a bevy of the the building's maids who were looking for some great deals. Over the years, I've done my share of donating to local charities, and have left many goodies by the curb for fellow dumpster divers. Then there is the fond memory of our Aussie friends (who at my going away sale) chipped in to help, and to help themselves to our treasures. How nice it is to know that we left a little of ourselves downunder!

So it seems there is yet another garage sale in my future. Now that I am California based, I must empty out our East Coast storage unit, and ready the family cottage, (which is being passed to the next generation). Any tips from any other veterans of the garage sale wars out there would be greatly appreciated.

Wish me bonne chance,

Marjorie

Patriotic Concert - July 2, 1916

"And crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea!"

by Katharine Lee Bates

Happy July 4th, 2011.
Marjorie

Back in the Hammock Again!

Not quite a lady of leisure! But settling in nicely with mother and cat at the lake.

A Gift from the Finger Lakes

Savoring the Season,
Marjorie

Sweet Pea - The Return of the Native

Some of you may remember last summer when a scrawny little stray cat came calling at the cottage screen door. No one I asked knew its story, except that according to local legend, it had spent two winters alone in the old garage. We gladly offered our hearts and home to this little waif. Thinking it was a girl kitty, we named it "Sweet Pea". But this little cat was full of surprises. She was a he!

Come Fall, "Pea" went to board in town with my friend Sandy on Main Street. Right next door is The Historical Society, and both staff and visitors to the Museum were quite taken with the cat, (who never missed a chance for a pat or photo-op). But not so taken with him were my friend's other feline pet, or the neighborhood townie cats, who bloodied and bullied poor "Tux", (as he was now called).

A telephone call from Sandy suggested that it would be best for all if the cat returned to the safety of its summer lakeside retreat. So great - he's back! Not so great, the worry of finding him more permanent digs.

Yet, we were in for one other surprise. When I encountered a neighbor from way down the beach road, I asked her if she would like to have a cat. As I began my sweet cat sales pitch, she said "Why, that sounds like "Jacob", my neighbor's cat - but he disappeared last winter."

OMG! "Sweet Pea" alias "Tux", is really "Jacob"!

Looks like we're all home at last!

Marjorie