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In the wake of Saturday

July 23, 2011

My Saturday started at 3.30am when the dog tested my asleepness with her tongue because her bladder needed attention. I let her out and sat by the chair waiting for her to finish so I could close the sliding door and let her back in. She shot inside, ran right past me, up the stairs, and bounded into bed without so much as a thank you.

I fell right back asleep and woke to my alarm at 8am to hit some garage sales. We didn't leave the house until 9, and then we still had to swing by the store for some cash. Our garage saleing mojo has always been pretty lacking, in that all we ever find is crap.

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No matter how crappy the garage sales are, I always enjoy myself because my husband is super hilarious AND he lets me think I'm super hilarious as well.

We aren't serious about garage saleing, and we have always tried to stick to neighborhoods that are slightly better off financially than we are. This plan worked well for me when I was a college student, back when everyone was better off financially than me.

photo (1)

This morning we deviated from that plan and have realized the error of our ways because richer people don't hold garage sales they just throw things away. We found some awesome stuff later in the evening, some of which even made it into our car.

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We swung by the downtown market for lunch where I promptly found a crisp $5 bill on the ground, and Steve found a bag filled with nuts and honey between his feet. We shared a table with a nice family from Colorado who had a very talkative little boy.

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We stocked up on some spices on the cheap and made fun of tourists and some of the local entertainment at the market. One of the acts was a Charlie Chaplin impersonator, but as far as we could tell it was less of an act and more of the person standing there looking constipated while twirling a cane.

Chaplin

We also managed to pack in some shirt shopping for Steve and filling out a bunch of paperwork for the school district as well as falling in love with every single doggie at the animal shelter. Like R2D2, a two-year-old great dane mix 140-pound female who was the sweetest thing ever but Steve wouldn't let me take her home.

Which is probably a good thing because I don't know how we would introduce her to Olive.

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Hi, I'm Valette

I'm a photographer based out of Anchorage, Alaska. I've recently become a wife, a stepmother, and a homeowner. Life is pretty awesome. You can email me anytime. Learn more...

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