Showing posts with label junk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label junk. Show all posts

Friday

let's defeat evil with an awesome dance party

Today made my life. According to some personality Harry Potter character match/quiz, I am Lord Voldermort. Tom Riddle. The Dark Lord. BEAST. And look at this wonderful photo of two of my favorite people, Harry Potter year 4 and Harry Potter year 7 of Harry and the Potters, or Paul and Joe, if you are like me and have been to so many concerts you know them on a first name basis. 
this craziness, also courtesy of Paul and Joe

my sister's old man computer she just brought up from the basement 
this pencil skirt 

and this piece of beautiful beautiful art hanging on my sisters bedroom wall, in a wooden frame she made herself. 

Sunday

pussywillows, cattails

So busy, haven't had much time for posting. Went camping this weekend, playing Gordon Lightfoot on the guitar around the fire, reading poetry, and carving pumpkins. But I was too busy downing hot chocolate and sucking on cough drops to take pictures. This is a new teapot recently added to my (modest) collection. Given to me by a great aunt. 
I took some pictures at my grandma's house a couple nights ago. Thinking of submitting one for the first photography club contest of the year...





And happy October. The weather is finally cooling off, which means black tights, hot tea, and jack-o-lanterns. 

taking the monotony out of monogyny

Today I went to a flea market. Here's what I bought. If I had $692, I would have brought home a hand-painted accordion, a lighted art deco ash tray, a marionette, a pair of bird sketches, and an apothecary chest. But as it was, I had ten dollars, and thus brought home a suitcase, a model T is a globe,  picture of an old fire engine, and some jewelry. Not bad. My grandma gave me some gold, old-womanish necklaces and earrings that will be great for fall. Grandma jewelry is pictured in bottom left. Everything else is flea market. 



Also at my grandma's found some very dirty horoscope cards. Not what you want to find our your grandparents' dresser.