Your New Garden Friend

why not happy bunny 😦

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Bunny of the Night

were-bunny-painting

Is that not the most ominous bunny painting you’ve ever seen in your life.*

This one’s cheating a little, because anyone who’s been to the [redacted] antiques store in [redacted] has probably already marveled over it. It’s HUGE. It takes up like half their back wall. We haven’t lived here long enough to know if this thing’s been there for years or if it’s a recent acquisition—although somewhat telling is the fact that it doesn’t have a price tag. (And it’s like the only thing in the store that doesn’t.)

Remember when I was complaining that nobody in Connecticut ever priced their sh**? (Ironic that they insist on calling them “tag sales” in CT, but no one actually puts price tags on anything.) (What monsters.) It’s like the opposite of that in Ohio; 90% of the yardsales I’ve been to so far have had everything neatly labeled, to the point where each individual book will have a price sticker on it. My theory is that they have no intention of actually selling the deranged bunny masterwork; they’re just using it to draw people in so they can sell them on old buttons and vases and things.

Either that, or the painting comes to life at night and they don’t want it to get in the wrong hands. (It’s probably that.)

* (Notice I said painting. This is pretty clearly the most ominous bunny photograph.)

Get In Your Pumpkin!

When yardsaling, common sense dictates that you find the best stuff the earlier you go, at the first yardsales you visit. Your competition—aka, your fellow salers—haven’t had a chance to pick through everything yet; the “good stuff” should still be there, waiting for you to hold it up and stand around awkwardly while you wait for someone to tell you how much it costs. (Or is that just me?)

…Theoretically. The problem, however, is that this is a false thing. Over the last several weeks, I’ve been finding that the first few sales of the day are always—ALWAYS—a total bust. Why? I’m not sure. Maybe the good stuff hasn’t been taken out of the attic yet, or maybe the people who start their sales during the wee hours only do so because the only things they need to set up are their three rugs.

Either way, for the first several yardsales today, the most exciting thing I found was this:

Now, I’ll grant you—angelic biker Taz is a pretty rad (and also very specific) collectible. Also confusing; as a rule, I tend to avoid anything that makes me ask “What EXACTLY is going on with that man’s torso?” (No, seriously—what the hell? Are those Taz-shaped pantaloons? Is he standing inside an albino pumpkin? Is…is that what heaven is like?) But it’s not what I drag myself out of bed at…8:30 for. Continue reading