Where there's muck there's money

"Thrifty" would be a good word to describe our family.  My Grandpa Brinson used to say that if you had sixpence and only spent five you'd never get into trouble (although Charles Dickens might have said that first).  His wise words have obviously stayed with us - of his ten grandchildren, none of us has ever gone bankrupt.  While this precludes any of us from ever becoming President of the USA it has kept us out of debtors' prison, and Grandpa would be proud of that.

Of course, a large part of my own financial success is thanks to thrift stores.  Why pay full price for something when you can get it for a fraction of that, with the added bonus of the previous owner's fingerprints/hair/smell still attached?  My sister has taken this a step further and volunteers in a UK charity shop, where she not only sorts the incoming merchandise but decides on it's price and gets first chance to buy it!  "Corrupt" might also be a good family adjective.

So with her visit I had to give Em a tour of the local thrift stores, or "pre-enjoyed economy" as I call it.  Unfortunately, US secondhand vendibles are extremely low quality when compared with British, charities being a dumping ground for anything broken or worn out that you can't sell for 50 cents at a garage sale.  On the other hand, there are none of those pesky health and safety laws.  Here you can buy anything!  Electricals, furniture, cars, guns...you name it.

So here's your guide to the thrift stores of southern Maryland.  I know you've been waiting.

Unique Thrift Store, Silver Spring

Location: On a nice main road, big car park, near a Burger King.

Product:  Varied, questionable.

Atmosphere/odour: Reminiscent of a large, non-luxurious rest home.

It's unique!  Like all the others.

Find of the day:

When is it pizza time?  It's always pizza time!

Goodwill, Rockville

Location: Small suburban shopping mall.  No good coffee nearby.

Product:  Well curated and ordered.  Discrete enclosed kids area where Pete has spent many happy hours.

Atmosphere/odour: Classy.  For a thrift store.

There's a sign on the door saying employees are not allowed to purchase the goods, which outraged Em.

Find of the day:

Three kings, two heads.  A Nativity/Halloween mash-up.

Honourable mention:

A personalised thrift store item?  That never happens!  And she didn't buy it.

Urban Thrift, Kensington

Location: On a side street in a difficult-to-navigate one-way system.  Custom suffers as a result!

Product:  Not choosy, but not too many broken things.  They once had a grand piano on a 50%-off-all-furniture-day, but my marriage was worth more than the savings.

Atmosphere/odour: Not very urban.

It was 25% off for seniors.  Where are Mum and Dad when you need them?

Find of the day:

Remember that comforting time when George W. Bush was the worst president ever?

Honourable mention:

Looking good, Jesus.

Guess where I'll be lining up at 5am on Friday!

Salvation Army, Takoma Park

Location: Upstairs in a mall, by an IHOP.

Product:  A very fine choice of well-looked-after goods.

Atmosphere/odour: Could almost be a real shop.  Nice religious theme - Christmas carols were being piped throughout.

Ah, the Sally Army.

Find of the day:

Only the addition of John Denver can improve on the Muppets/Christmas formula.

Good sense of Biblical humour.

--

Break for lunch:

Never thrift on an empty stomach.

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Value Village, Silver Spring

Location: Just off the Beltway, quite near Ikea.

Product:  Ugh.  Quantity rather than quality is the order of the day here.  It seems to be two thrift stores combined into one, hangar-sized chaotic charity warehouse.

Atmosphere/odour: I'm still trying to scrub it from my pores.

Find of the day:

Whoever strips the dolls naked and bags them up like some deranged psycho killer!

In conclusion:

That's all my Christmas presents bought in a single day!  Thanks again Grandpa.

Willing sibling

"...oh, and your sister's escaped again," my Mother dropped nonchalantly into the end of our call.

"What?" I spluttered into my Earl Grey.  "The doctors said that couldn't happen again!"

"Apparently she's more resourceful than they thought."

"Well...at least they confiscated her passport."

"Yes, about that..."

I let my weary head sink into my hands.

"Interpol tracked her to Heathrow," Mum went on, conversationally, "but they lost her in the Duty Free.  They think she might be heading to you."

I lifted my face back to the single, unforgiving eye of the webcam.

My Mother, sensing something of my mood, looked kindly and/or disinterestedly at her only, firstborn son.

"It's not that bad," she told me.  "If she arrives just pretend that everything's normal.  They said they should be able to get a containment team out to you in a couple of week."

"A couple of weeks?!"

"Take her to the Cheesecake Factory.  That always placates her.  Anyway, I have to get your Dad his tea now."

I hadn't even finished my sigh of resignation and panic before she signed off.

The doorbell rang.  I made my way downstairs, my sweaty hand slipping awkwardly on the doorknob.  Perhaps it was only the chill November air that made me shiver.

"Hey big brother!" smiled Emily.

I can imagine a lot.

Baltimore airport is actually pretty classy!

Getting ready for the holiday season in International Arrivals.

"One original, one chocolate hazelnut crunch, one caramel pecan...just give us one of each,"

Well that just happened

Wow!  After my home country rejected Europe it seems like my adopted one has rejected sanity.  Amongst all the talk of the broken system, a massively disenfranchised rural population, and the death of political forecasting, there seem to be two self-evident truths: only a mug bets on a two horse race, and if you have the worst candidates in history then one will become the worst winner.

Living in a country by choice but without voting rights - voting with our feet, I suppose - does raise some interesting questions, most pertinently: when is it time to get out?  If the mass deportations start?  If press freedoms get curtailed?  If the price of Twinkies goes up?

Of course, the real question is "what happens next?"  The new president looks like he'll be the least favoured in history from the popular vote.  None of the Republicans I've met bear even a passing resemblance to the rally-going-news-featured ones (because I've only been a coast-dweller?)  The political system here is founded on checks and balances, which allows the paralyzing inertia we've seen from DC this past decade but is also meant to stop extreme swings.  Most US elections, including this one, are very very close.

So as of now I can report that the sun has risen this morning in America, the trains are still not running on time, and England are doing remarkably well in the cricket in India.  Things seem normal (apart from the cricket). "We hang the petty thieves and appoint the great ones to public office," noted one political commentator.  But his name was Aesop and he died in 564BC, so let's aim for gradual improvement.

One day...

Under not canvas

Camping!  There has to be a better way.  Thankfully the wonderful people at Pohick Bay Regional Park agree and offer "rustic cabins" for those of us that want the outdoor experience while remaining indoors.  It's very nice to wake up on a campsite in November and not have to scrape the ice off your eyeballs, but comfortable as these cabins are they lack wi-fi, flat screen TVs and coffee makers, so we were roughing it somewhat.

We met the Murnanes there and - fairly literally - released the children into the forest.  Pete and Charlie disappeared down a leaf-filled gulch, eventually finding other, older children that they co-opted into their rudimentary adult-free society.  Oscar tried to eat everything, and managed to sneak stones, acorns and many leaves into his mouth before getting them removed again by a fast-acting mother.  Izzie hung around the fire and convinced Hannah to make her hot chocolate with marshmallows.

We stayed there for two nights!  Yep, seriously hardcore.  On Sunday we packed up, recycled our wine bottles and drove over to Cox Farms where they were having their annual pumpkin smash before closing for the season.  And after that we saw the Muckers for some fun in their new tree house.

There's been a report published recently that says children should only be allowed an hour's screen time each day, which means that Pete and I have some serious catching up to do to correct the balance after a weekend spent entirely outdoors.



Sitting on the front porch swing.  It's like The Waltons around here.

Or Little House in the Big Woods (I always preferred the one on the prairie).

What's this?  Only Hannah's birthday present from me: a Chillbo Baggins.  What's a Chillbo Baggins?  Just buy one and relax.

Unless there are kids around.  Then you never get to relax.

Masterchef Jack whips up breakfast.

Oscar adopts his guru pose.

Look!  Even consultants do real work sometimes.

Off for an afternoon hike.

The actual bay of Pohick.



Throwing rocks.

Some dynamic climbing from Pete.

Girl on a swing!

Childcare at its best.

Family Christmas card pic sorted.

More climbing.

Cheeky chappy.

Passing on my many years of Boy Scout fire-lighting experience.  "First, syphon some petrol from a nearby car..."

Some more top childcare.

Nocturnal animals.

An actual nocturnal animal!

And some more.

Sunday morning breakfast.

We indulged in a little leaf-peeping as well, as the colours around here are stunning at the moment.

A yokel down on the pumpkin farm.

Pork sandwich.

Boom!

We normally stick to Massey Fergusons but McCormick is at least a British tractor, even if this one was made in Chicago.

Our car was stuffed full of our camping gear but the farm was selling any size of pumpkin for $5!  I don't even need a pumpkin, certainly not one of that size, but you'd be crazy to miss out on a deal like that!!  Hannah will learn to thank me.

"When can we have a go?" whined the children.  "I just have to check it's safe.  Again," says Vince.

Anno domina

Unlike the rest of us, Hannah doesn't actually physically age.  But we still like to celebrate the passing of years.

A fine and balanced birthday tea.

And another cake ($1.99 at Safeway, reduced for quick sale) because one is never enough.