Search

The Home That Yard Sales Built

How to conquer life's obstacles one bargain at a time!

Tag

estate sale

How to Make an Upscale Chia Pet Alternative in Five Easy Steps or: ONE MAN’S PAST IS ANOTHER GAL’S TREASURE

So you say you long for the nostalgia of ch-ch-ch-chia…but you want a unique and elegant alternative?  Well read on my sprout loving friend, read on!

 

If you have a pulse you have probably, at some time or another, either owned a Chia Pet, seen a Chia Pet, or at least seen the Chia Pet commercial.  They debuted in the late seventies and are still made today.



I recently found a treasure that got my mental gears spinning.  It all started when I saw the item pictured below:

 

There he sat, at an estate sale in Pacific Palisades, partially obstructed from my view by a table and a set of redwood patio furniture.  I was immediately drawn to this object, for what reason I cannot explain, but I really liked it.  After staring at it for a bit, I realized that the grooves in his “hair” were somewhat reminiscent of Chia Pets and I thought to myself:  “Hey!  I could grow sprouts on that crazy cool head!”  A deal was struck with the proprietress and I was the proud new owner of a well, er, whatever this is exactly.  Not quite a bust, certainly not a statue, but…something!

 

When I brought it home, my original plan involved Chia seeds.  I even went so far as to purchase some at my local Trader Joe’s.  If you live in a much warmer climate than I, or if you want to grow yours indoors, you could go this route.  As it turns out, Chia seeds need a steady temperature in at least the high seventies for optimal growth.  Night time temps here get fairly crisp, even when the weather is moderately warm during the day, so that was out for me.  I knew I wanted to display this item in the garden.

 

This was actually a bit of a blessing, because the more I imagined the finished product in my mind, the more I could see that I wanted something a little bit more subtle, a little more refined.  Not that I object to campy or even outright silly, but in this case, it just didn’t fit.  I didn’t want the objet d’garden art to look like a chlorophyll rich Phil Spector, for heaven’s sake!

 

I had some things left over from another gardening project and I wanted to use what I had on hand. I had some succulents, including a large flat of a fairly small and low-growing variety. After eyeballing them side by side I came to the conclusion that the succulent ground cover just wasn’t going to work.  I very loosely laid it on top just to be sure, but as you can see, it looked flat out redonkulous.

 

 

I’ve been a little obsessed with moss lately, so, after a hearty laugh, I went instead with a few different varieties of moss (all gathered from the yard) with a few tiny succulents thrown in for good measure.  Here’s how to make it all happen:

 

Step 1.  Buy a crazy random item for one dollar.  Mine is a head, but it could be ANYTHING!  You could use a garden gnome, an animal statue of some sort, or something simple such as an orb.  Spritz your item with water.

 

 

Step 2.  Apply a small amount of enriched soil on the moistened item.  Spritz liberally once more.


 

Step 3.  Apply moss in sections, pressing down firmly as you go along.  Spritz the back of each section with water before applying and wet thoroughly after each section is attached.



Helpful hint:  Shortly after beginning this project at an outdoor table, I realized that transport was going to be problematic until it was well established (a couple of weeks at least.)  Even though it was a bit awkward to finish everything with the head already on the ground, I set it into place and finished everything up there.

 

Helpful hint:  I used three different types of moss because I wanted a mottled surface.  I didn’t want it to look too uniform.  Whatever type you use is up to you.

 

Step 4.  Add a few random succulent pieces.  Base the size of your pieces on the size of the item you’re using.  Mine were quite small.  Succulents are very hardy and quite resilient.  I grow them often by simply breaking off a piece from one plant and shoving it into a pot or the ground…AND THEY ACTUALLY GROW!  No need to root them in water, just let ‘em go at it!

 

Step 5.  Mist until well soaked.  You’re done!

 

Some follow-up:

It is important to keep your item well watered for the first few weeks.  Once it takes firm hold you won’t need to be quite as vigilant.  Moss needs very little water and can tolerate more than you might imagine.

After I finished mine I decided the neck looked odd because the ground around it was so bare.  My garden is a work in progress…other than some trees nearly everything in the yard was dead, with no grass, etc.  Since I’m renting, I am keeping my budget as low as possible in the back yard.  So far I’ve found some plants at yard sales and done a few things, but because the ground is still empty overall, I just thought the head needed a little extra something.  Using some moss and unplanted succulents from another project, I filled in just a bit around the base.

 

Another alternative is to “paint” your item with a moss sludge (I actually went back and added just a bit after steps one through five, just for good measure.)  I wanted instant results, at least to some degree (it will still have to grow in and really fill in, this is just a start), so I didn’t use solely a moss sludge, but for details on how to go this route, check out the following link:

 

 

http://wp.me/p2YY9u-cU

 

 

Now that you’ve seen how to make it, I’d like to tell you a little more about the history behind it.

After completing the transaction, the woman running the sale and I chatted further, and details began to emerge that made my recent acquisition seem all the more precious.  What follows is the Reader’s Digest Condensed version of the story that she shared.

 

Her parents, both from the Ukraine, met in New York and fell in love.  Her mother, a free-spirited creative type, was an avid gardener and artist.  There were examples of her pottery throughout the sale.  The items she had amassed over her life were varied and interesting.  Some of them rough, some of them refined.  Most of them interesting.  The head was made by her mother and the model was her father.  Sweet story.

 

Now I am loving this item more and more.

 

Then she continues.  Her parents (separately, having not yet met) left the Ukraine during the Holocaust.  Her father’s story was compelling.  When he was a young man, he was rounded up and packed into a train car with over 100 other Ukrainians.  Everyone on the train was a stranger to him, with the exception of his lifelong best friend.  He and his fellow captives saw little avenue for escape.  The train was speeding along, far from any town, the doors were locked and the only ventilation on the train car was a TINY window at the very top of the wall, near the ceiling, far out of reach of all on board.  The general consensus was that all was lost.

 

Against the advice of his fellow prisoners he and his friend were determined to attempt an exit through this tiny window.  First his friend, and then he were boosted up by some of the others on board and managed to wriggle through the window.  He was knocked unconscious when he hit the ground for, he believed, over an hour.  His time estimate was based on the frequency with which trains passed through the area and the fact that the noise of an approaching train is what brought him back to consciousness.  Realizing that being spotted by a passing train meant likely death, he scurried away from the tracks and into a wooded area as quickly as he could manage.  He was unable to find his friend, because the train was going so fast that even going one after the other they were far apart.  He never saw his friend again.  He never knew if his friend survived the fall, if he did whether he was able to find his way out of the country or whether he might have been found during his attempted escape.

 

But the woman’s father did escape.  He left his home and came to the United States.  He met a crazy, quirky and beautiful woman.  He took her to southern California for their honeymoon and she refused to ever leave again.  Refused.  He went back to New York, packed their things and drove back across the country…WHILE SHE STAYED IN CALIFORNIA (this gal wasn’t kidding folks!)  With no job, no home, no clear plan.  He just leapt.  Again.  And when he told the story to his children, or to friends he told the story with laughter and love.  He cherished his quirky wife and her headstrong attitude.

 

He bought a home, raised his children and lived his version of the American dream.  Because he took a chance, because he flung himself from a speeding train, flung himself into an unknown country and flung himself willy-nilly into his life with his family.

 

I didn’t ask how he died (it was a true estate sale…both parents were gone) but we know how he DIDN’T die.  It is estimated that upwards of four million Ukrainians were killed in the holocaust.  This man wasn’t one of them.  In the face of one of the ugliest examples of what mankind can be capable, he survived.  And he didn’t become ugly simply because he had experienced ugliness.  He loved.  He lived.

 

They say that one person’s trash is another person’s treasure.

 

Well, in this case, one person’s past has become another person’s treasure.  It’s not just another purchase…it is something which will BE treasurED.  It’s a Chia Survivor!  A Chia Hero!

 

And just in case you are wondering if my repurposing this piece into garden art is disrespectful in some way, I told the woman at the sale (before she told me her parent’s story) what I had in mind and she was 100% on board.  After hearing the story I mentioned that now it seemed a little, well, frivolous.  She disagreed.  She thought her mother, especially, would have loved it.

 

I know that every time I look at “the head”, I will be reminded of the journey that lead it to my garden.

 

Fling yourself headfirst at life people!  You never know who you will touch along the way, or even after you’re gone.  Make all of those touches meaningful…touches for which you know you’ll be proud to be remembered!


-Laura  

The Provenance Makes it Personal

So you say it’s all just used junk?  Well, I happen to disagree, my friend!

WHY THE STORY BEHIND MY “STUFF” MAKES ME SMILE

I like pretty things.  In a lot of ways, it’s as simple as that.  Who doesn’t?  I think we can agree that pretty things are, by and large, universally liked.  You’ve become pretty jaded if you start saying:  “Ugh.  Pretty things?  Pfft.  No thanks.”  That said, that’s not the only reason the things in my home make me happy.  Obviously some things have a place here because they’re practical.  Quite a few things are in my home because they make me giggle.  There is one thing that almost all of the items in my home have in common and that is that they have a story.

This vintage crystal dish was a recent aquisition:

  It was a chilly Sunday afternoon and my daughter and I were out and about.  We went to an estate sale, which, having been held Friday and Saturday as well, was in it’s final death throes.  At most estate sales, by the end of the day on Sunday the carcass has pretty much been stripped clean, the bones left to dry in sun.  The first hour or so of an estate sale is a frenetic feeding frenzy.  Folks are hopped up on the adrenaline that can only come from the thrill of possible treasure, filling their arms with pre-loved riches and rushing from room to room snatching up lace doilies and mismatched kitchenware as if they’re on some real life, musty scented version of “Supermarket Sweep.”  By Sunday afternoon, a random shopper will wander through occasionally, mostly with looks of disappointment or scorn, surveying what meager offerings remain, eyeballing the poor soul having the sale almost as if it is a personal affront to them that nothing is left.

This particular sale, much as it’s proprietress, had retained some of it’s youthful beauty.  In my, never to be humble, opinion, there were a few reasons for the quantity and desirability of what remained:

1.  Location:  Not only was the property off the beaten path, but the GPS map was even a bit “off” in how it displayed the street, which was actually more like an alley.

(Side note:  Always keep a graphic street guide handy folks!  Don’t become so dependent upon GPS that you forget how to read a map.  In the event of a zombie apocalypse, do you think you’ll have GPS?  No!  Hope for the best (no zombie apocalypse) prepare for the worst (zombie apocalypse) and you’ll be better off for it.)

2.  There were very few signs.  What signs there were had been poorly placed and had no arrows.

3.  The prices were high.  Not “have you been smoking crack?” high, but pricier than the typical yard sale clientele are eager and willing to pay.

4.  The prices were high because her things were VERY nice…however, because they weren’t nice in a flashy or ostentatious way, but were nice in an elevated and refined way, a lot of patrons were overlooking their value.  She knew what she had and wanted a fair price for those things.  For instance, she had a leather bound Bottega Veneta organizer.  Now, had it been a Louis Vuitton organizer swimming in “LOOK AT ME!” LV logos, it would have been snapped up early on.  Because its mark was embossed, quietly, on the inside, shoppers had passed it by.

4.  On Saturday, when I had first visited the sale, the woman hosting it was, well, let’s say not bubbly.  Ok, why mince words?  She was flat out unfriendly.  It seemed as if the process of people mauling her treasures, approaching her with said treasures, which she had carefully accumulated over a lifetime, and offering her 25 cents each for them had in some way offended her and affected her mood.  Who woulda thunk it?

So, for all of these reasons, my daughter and I, the only people browsing at this point, found ourselves oohing and ahhing over some pretty fantastic stuff.

The crystal dish above was an item I had seen on Saturday.  At that time the woman hosting the sale, a beautiful woman in probably her late seventies, who my daughter described as having “great style and the perfect glasses”, had, when I chirpily asked the price, snarled at me that it was “Twenty dollars and not a penny less.”  On Sunday, her mood had softened.  She was lovely.  The stress and anxiety of Saturday had left  her and she chatted freely, sharing stories of every item on which we commented.  I touched the dish on Sunday and she told me that it sat on her mother’s coffee table for decades.  Looking at the dish she said:  “Do you like it?  You should have it.  It’s only five dollars.  Please take it.”

I have to say, I had no business spending even five dollars that particular day, I went because I thought we might find some things that my daughter wanted.  But in that moment, I grew attached to the dish.  I was enamored with it and with her.  The dish had grace and a casual elegance.  I was impressed with her grace, and her elegance.  Even her only thinly veiled superiority was charming on that day, rather than off-putting.  Also endearing was that she clearly wanted me to have that dish.  Not that she wanted to make the sale, please understand.  It was something different.  Perhaps in her mind it would go somewhere that it would be cherished, rather than hauled off to Goodwill.

I paid it.  I gave her five dollars.  I brought it home, washed it, dried it and set it out, and guess what?  I do cherish it.  The crystal has soft gentle curves and feels almost silky when I touch it.  The lid’s finish is imperfect and I love it’s aged patina.  When the light hits it, it explodes in a rainbow of colors.  It feels to me as if it belongs in my home.

As much as I cherish the dish, what I cherish even more is that every time I look at that dish, I’ll remember that day.  My daughter and I had a wonderful time, we laughed and talked, we had a lot to say on the way home after the sale…about the house, about what we had found (even about the items we left behind!) and about the woman who we met. She was special. For whatever reason, that day was special to me.

All of these things, all over my house, they have a connection.  To their previous owner, to events in my life during the time in which each item was purchased, to how they connect in ways small and large to everything else in my home.  I appreciate them.  Tremendously.

Have gratitude for all of the little things all around you.

 Every day you wake up and there’s NOT a zombie apocalypse, appreciate it.  😉

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑