Archive for January, 2008


I hail from total scavenger stock. My mother’s father survived the Depression and never got over it. My Pop could stash some stuff away. The TV we used to have (until it conked out) came from my Pop’s house in the Villas, NJ, from his TV room. And by TV room, I mean a side room in the house that had six Ts in it. My Mister and I plugged ’em in until we found one that worked. I think we ended up with TV#4. My mother’s mother’s mother (got it?) lived at Yard Sales and was a sort of yard sale shark, buying cheap and marking up at her own monthly garage sale. But Pop kept me equipped in sewing stuff – better scissors, boxes of buttons and even a serger. Ditto for Mom-mom Sarnese, only her supplies were more like sparkly pins and giant beads. Love them both, though I think they didn’t like each other.

Saturday night, I found myself grabbing empty OB bottles off the table at Korean BBQ so my Mister can use them for the beer he’s been making all winter. And all week, I’ve been walking off with cartons of discarded cigar boxes – beautiful wooden boxes from the Dominican Republic with real hinges and all – from the cigar shop on the corner. Guess the lads are cleaning house or something.

boxes boxes

Some will be shared with lady friends, some will stash supplies around the house in a manner a tad nicer than shoe boxes.

Oy, up on the blogs now

Writing about facts all the time for money made me hesitate to write for free in my spare time about my inner workings. Then 2002 called and told me to go home already; I was beginning to stink.

Writing all the time for money using my real name and accurate facts and news judgment and deadly serious (Important) topics seemed so different from spouting off about the other things I love: public records, lady turtles, growing stuff, making stuff, cooking pots of stuff, eschewing squareness and blatant consumerism, yard sales, Chicago, the Iladelph, foiled corruption, shaking it and leopard printed anything. And by different, I mean not at all the same, maybe in an OK way.

Now I get an outlet for The Fluff I’d die before writing about professionally but which occupies a lot of my brain. There’s time and space for Fluff, of course. There’s just also Important News that can be boring to sit through, but which makes for job that America needs and I kind of like. It’s that Making News Relevant, that Sitting in Court All Morning to Tell You How Many Years the Crook Got, that Digging Through Mountains of Forms and Numbers that I like a lot. It’s translating those languages for you, the taxpayer, that gets me out of bed every morning.

i grew cotton

Enough of that already and onto the Cotton I Grew Last Summer, the little cotton plant my Mister gave me as kudos for landing a new job.