Kangaroos, emus, and cute little baby pigs

Easter.  

Chocolate. Waffles with blueberries, icecream and maple syrup.













Sculpture in the water and on the hills.

Kangaroos, emus, and cute little baby pigs.

Markets, hippies, music, sunshine.  Laughing, looking, forgetting to sleep. Ridiculously early mornings and late nights.

Scavenging, swapping, finding, planning. 

Maps, suitcases, thermal underwear. 

And a whole 'nother day to go.

Not sunny here

The weekend has drizzled into greyness, luckily the rain thinned out the crowds on Saturday's treasure trail. We took an apprentice with us, it's always good to see a new convert.

This is really just an update on the weekend's acquisitions - although there was some treasure left behind - some fantastic chairs, an ornate wooden inlay box, for example - but sometimes you just have to prioritise space and money. There are only so many chairs you can sit on and I am deficient in the shed area.

This won my heart when I opened it - so cute!! Like I really neeed another suitcase. The inside is fantastic, maybe a little tidying on the outside.

Another hatbox - note to self - probably enough suitcases, hatcases, collar boxes and trunks now.

Seriously.

Someone had decided to cover it (quite well) but had missed the important step of not closing it till AFTER the glue dried. Time, patience and a chisel will generally open most things. Eventually.

There were also quite a lot of nice picture frames, another interesting jigsaw puzzle, and this:
Strangely compelling.

Verging on the ridiculous

At a time when I should be slaving away on the actual Summer Street Fair, I am distracted by the desperate need to go out and trawl the verges. Tragic, I know, but I remain obsessed by stuff piled on the verge.

I was almost traumatised earlier in the week by this post on my friend Adele's blog.

The thought of all that stuff out there. Me, trapped at work. People telling me about the fabulous stuff seen but not picked up...AAAARGH.

This week we explored Lower King (due to be collected) where amongst many treasures, we stopped for a break to soak up the serenity while pondering Albany's systematic disenfranchisement of non-boat-owners.

Disenfranchised, perhaps, but still able to spot something interesting in a pile of random rubbish. Great excitement when we worked out how to fold the Pajero seats completely out of the way.

We did spend considerable time considering the small boat/canoe that was looking for a new home. It just wouldn't fit in the car. But we did collect some treasure...

A metal flower garden fripperie.

No, I don't know what it is. But I like it.


The veggie garden is going well, by the way.

A suitcase, some strange plaster feet. A huge insulator.


Yes. A hat box. A genuine made in WA hatbox. The catch was a bit rusty, a drop of oil and inside....

a bunch of 50's and 60's hats.

From a skip, a vintage microphone, still in it's original box, a charge book from a police station (not completed and set up for pre-computer days), a lovely old book of pipe music.

But its back to getting ready for the Summer Street market - somewhere under all this stuff is a house.

Table legs and charts

The taxidermied emu legs were an absolute steal at $50.

I really, really mean that. The poor seller's wife didn't find them attractive and apparently didn't feel that a small side table with emu legs was a decorating possibility, so he had to sell them. Personally, I thought that they would make a thoughtful addition to my decorating scheme - currently a cross between tip shop and demented hippie.

Alas, insufficient cash reserves....but it may be worthwhile keeping an eye on the tip shop. I got the distinct impression that I may have been their only admirer.



Otherwise, a fantastic made in Australia in the 50's Globite suitcase in mint condition, with perfect pink and cream striped paper lining.

And a huge stack of shipping charts, from as early as the 1930's. I particularly liked the warning on the Karachi chart saying Caution:
submarines operating in this area.



Some will be for working on, they are torn and in too poor a condition for anything else. Some are fragmented but will be frameable.



Which reminded me that I have some lovely old survey maps of rural WA, including the drawings for the water tank at the Quaranup Quarantine Station, signed by Hilton Beasley the Government Architect of the day in 1913.



In the less cerebral corner for the weekend there were some vintage 1970 rollerskates (I know someone going to a fancy dress party as Roller Girl from Boogie Nights), some faux Raybans in the Blues Brothers style ( for my baby girl's sunglasses collection), some manga for my boy, a Terry Pratchett paperback for me, some bits of vintage jewellery for repair and reconstruction, and just enough left over to buy a soft serve icecream to eat on the way home.