Cossayuna tender Bittles

I guess I just love crap that meth-heads sell for cash or that no one else wants from grandma's attic (God rest her soul). When I thrift, I start to talk and move really fast bumping into bins while rummaging for mismatched shoes. I try on every busted hat and literally gasp at stuff I would never look at if it were new and someone hadn't died in it. The sleeping cats of shop owners should know to move.
I know on fb I posted family photos of blueberry picking, a country fair, pastoral farmlands, etc. but truth be told; the highlights of my vacation were in motheaten consignment stores. I found a Gucci (it has a serial number on the tag so if it is a fake it is a really authentic fake) for $4! Apparently long, thin straps don't go with my "rugged" look because when I put it on I looked like Mrs. Richvalsky browsing for muffins at the PTA bakesale. Of course it looked perfectly chic on my sister, Ava - fine take it, label whore.
Don't worry I was able to procure a lovely pair of striped knee high socks, my third jean jacket (this summer), a water-damaged print of Little Lord Fontleroy, a rusty baking tin for madelines, 3 identical pink and white drink trays, and a fringed purple suede clutch.


I recently finished reading The Secret Life of Zzzzs. Although I didn't love the book, I have decided that I need to be an apiarist. I also saw a bee keeping demonstration in the children's room of the library so it is not just a passing fancy. My dreams of owning chickens might be farfetched but bees are small and for the most part neat unless they swarm.
Brendan and I happened upon a Master beekeeper class this week. I was able to get pretty close and pretend I was one of them but then when I started distracting people who were handling thousands of bees by asking questions about how I too could become a Master of bees it was hinted that I leave. They told me that bees are easily "agitated" when it is cloudy plus I was taking a lot of pictures and standing way too close in a short sundress and flip flops. They could have just offered me one of those funny hat-veils. Sheesh, don't bee a hater. (I'm sorry but you have no idea of how many bee jokes I didn't make.)