She is like the merchant's ships, she bringeth her food (and other things!) from afar
She looketh well to the ways of her household
I have a confession to make. This is the real reason I started thrifting last year. Backhome Collections, a thrift store in small town DeRidder, Louisiana, has a bake sale once a month. (This is the same store where I buy stone-ground cornmeal.) It lasts for three days, and runs the first full Thursday, Friday, and Saturday of each month. The ladies from the local Mennonite church do the cooking and baking. They offer everything from cream pies with real meringue, to cakes, cookies, breads, and even casseroles.
This past weekend, my thrifty finds were a wonderful chocolate cream pie; a small "sampler" size Italian cream cake; Amish cinnamon friendship bread; and half a dozen butterhorn rolls. It may have not been the thriftiest shopping I've ever done there, but it was surely among the most delicious!
But to balance out my "un-thrifty" choices, let me show you the latest "freebie" my husband found next to the dumpster at our apartment complex in Georgia...

This after my son unloaded it at home in Louisiana. It's not vintage...
...and it definitely needs some work...

...but doesn't it have potential?
For now it has a home out in the shed while I decide what to do with it and where to put it.
But now I have a question for you Do you trash pick? Dumpster dive? I don't think we've ever actually gotten into a dumpster, but one of the advantages of living in an apartment complex is that folks put things they don't need or want that may still have some "life" left in them, beside the dumpster instead of in it.
My husband travels a lot with his job. Not in the traditional "business trip" type of travel, because he often stays in one location for months at a time, and he usually lives in a furnished corporate apartment. Sometimes I get to go with him, sometimes not. Every apartment we've ever lived in has a different definition of what constitutes "furnished", so we frequently supplement with our own things, or things we buy.
Or trash pick.
When we were in Alaska, we trash-picked a small chest-of-drawers. There were two, one of which was completely in pieces. The other one needed a couple of nails and some wood glue and it was as good as new. We put it back out when we left, and someone else snatched it up.
My husband's co-worker trash-picked several bicycles, then combined them to make good little bikes that he gave to the neighborhood kids.
We've trash picked a queen sized bedframe where we are now. It was better than the "furnished" one we were sleeping on, so we took it down and use the trash-picked one for now. (When we leave, we're changing them back and taking the "found" one with us.)
And now we have a headboard and foot board to go with it. And I proudly stand and say--"My name is Charlene, and I'm a trash picker."
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Until next time...