For many months there has been little activity on the op shop front as my work hours are the same as theirs. However, whilst running motherly errands for the evil twins on Sunday, I came across something which I did not know existed outside the realm of fantasy- it was a Sunday oppy and it was good.
There was a jolly red suitcase which I moved by swiftly.
Some gorgeously tomato red pyrex tempted but did not engage me.
$18 for chipped pyrex?! I think not.
Living in a 1930's farmhouse I was drawn to this sweet old light fitting for $4 but wasn't sure about it. Foolish in retrospect.
Then I discovered the retirement home for old ceramic kettles. What a booty! The one on the top shelf in the middle is just lovely but unnecessary. The endless replacement of elements in these kettles is a deterrent...but it was so pretty. Still I showed steely resolve and moved on.
Time was a ticking for me to get away and purchase the back to school bits when I found a jackpot of old silver. There just wasn't time to sift through it but I did get a big silver tablespoon- the sort you can serve dinner with or eat ice cream with to make it seem a tiny amount. I'll be back, silverware.
As I rounded the corner to leave, the skies parted and I heard choirs of angels or it may have been the other customer's phone ringtone. There, stacked on a table, was the motherload of Johnson dinnerware. This is the stuff I have always regretted not getting when they revamped
the convent or primary school I grew up with. From the age of seven till fifteen, I observed this dinnerware carrying scones and pikelets and delicious left overs baked by floury little old nuns too ancient to teach. They were relegated instead to a grand old kitchen full of warm smells and towering ceilings like something out of a Bronte novel. Maybe it was actually very poky but in my memory it was everything I would love a kitchen to be..and it housed THIS crockery.
So I bought it. Not all of it but enough for a roast for the family or scones with a friend or...
a burnt mandarin cake for the boys and their friends.
The knitting needles were an afterthought and I restricted myself to one set of each colour. I do love these old knitting needles. They must be full of very good nanna karma like little rainbow wands of kindness and caring. In my mind, elderly hands held these and gently coaxed cuddly garments and toys for beloved small people. I am assuming they were elderly hands because of the age and style of the needles. I have a bouquet of them and they radiate warmth and goodwill from the yellow jug in the sunroom.
You may remember this photo from a long time ago. Rainbow, knitting, nanna-ness...what's not to love?