Here's just another example of the way we (I know there are others who do this, too) often gravitate toward certain colors in our thrifting. It's the primaries this time around, reds and blues with some yellows thrown in.
The tin above (approx. 9" x 9" x 4.5") was from one of my favorite junk/antiques stores in Cranbrook, B.C. It's the kind of place that you can get lost in for an hour or two, every inch of floor, wall, and ceiling in this tiny maze of a space jampacked full of curiosities and antiques, old tools and parts, and all sorts of good junk and treasures, the kind of place where you feel the need to immediately wash your hands of the layer of grit on them when you leave. About 8 or 9 years ago a friend came across this shop when I just happened to park in front it and since then I mangage to make it there only once every year or two. I'm pretty sure it was this same tin, high on a shelf near the front window, that caught my eye the last time I was there, maybe even the time before that. It had a faded price tag on it that I couldn't read. I wasn't meaning to bargain the price down. When he told me the price I decided against it, but when he knocked a third off the price, I couldn't help myself. The 10 Canadian dollars I plunked down for this one Peek Frean tin, more than I'd normally spend on something like this, was as much as I spent on all the things below and more.
Latvian(?) Estonian(?) mittens handknit at a gauge of 11 stitches and 12 rows to the inch. !!! 50 cents.
$1.00 for the turquoise cotton velveteen at right, to compliment the turquoise corduroy above it, yet another JCPenney's remnant that I paid $1 for at our local thrift store a couple of weeks ago.
$2.00 for the 2 yards of canvas-like yardage at left. The red flowered, textured cotton curtain panel is one of six that, unfortunately, have large faded sections where, at some point, they'd been folded up and hemmed to shorten them, exposing half of the panel to sunlight. Those curtains, along with the two linen and one cotton tablecloths below, a vintage knitting pattern book, a pair of light switch and outlet covers with mushrooms and daisies on them, and a stack of shorts and shirts for the boys came to a whopping $3.00.
The rest of the knitting pattern books below and a pair of pants for me, and a few trolls for me the boys came to $2.10. I'll try and share some of what's inside these soon.
Thrifting trips across the border are certainly more fun with a friend along but I never would have had the experiences of the other day had I not been alone. There were snippets of conversations both had and overheard which let me in on little slices of other people's lives, something you don't get so much of when browsing with friends or with little ones along.
While going through stacks of knitting and craft pattern books at a Hospital Auxiliary thrift shop, a man who looked not much younger than my own father came in and said to the woman working there, who apparently he knew fairly well, that he "needed some wools for mum." She pointed him toward several drawers near to me and he quickly cleaned them out of the mixed bags of mostly not-wools. I asked him what his "mum" was knitting and he replied, "Socks, and slippers. I just picked up ten pair or so from her." Of course I had to ask how old she was. His answer, "94." I'll consider myself pretty lucky to still be knitting socks 57 years from now.
Minutes after he had finished his small talk about local stuff with the women working the store and had walked out, a woman came through the door and announced at the front counter, "I have a stack of old knitting books here and more at home if you think you'd like them." They said, "Yes. I think we have someone right here who might like to look at them," motioning in my direction. Unfortunately they were all from the 80's era, a little too close to home still for me.
At the next thrift shop I, along with everyone else who walked through the door, was greeted heartily by the man working there with a handshake, asked if I'd ever been in before, given the lowdown on where everything in the shop was located, asked where I was from, told his name, and asked mine. That was the place of the pile of curtains, clothes, and linens. About the curtains, I was asked, "So, you like these do you? I know the person who's house they came from." In the same place, I overheard one of a group of women (Mennonite, I believe), when they came across the section of yarn and sewing patterns, etc, said "Look at all this. People used to do a lot of crafting, but now...." and she trailed off and then switched to speaking Dutch. Um. Excuse me? People don't really craft anymore? I beg to differ, but I just smiled and kept my mouth shut.
The thrift shops nearby us in Canada are loaded with well organized craft sections with fabric remnants nicely rolled and labelled and ordered by color, buttons separated and hung on pegboard in tiny ziplocked bags, vases full of colorful plastic knitting needles, shelves of vintage Patons and Beehive knitting patterns, bags and bags of acrylic, orlon, polyester yarns and even better, bags of woolen crewel and tapestry yarns in every shade imaginable.
The extra, bonus parts about thrifting in Canada: Nice, friendly people. Finding myself unconsiously and almost immediately starting to use words like "ay" and "washroom" and hearing "pamplemousse" roll around in my head over and over after a quick trip through the produce section of the Overwaitea. Feeling like you're not really spending anything because paying in another currency feels a little like using play money and you come home with any U.S. cash you left with still in your wallet. Thrifting scores with prices like these made me feel like Amanda. Last, but certainly not least, driving alongside mountain ranges like this one during the 1.5 hour drive to and from:
