Texas Junk

Texas has good junk. I learned this soon after moving here, having given away or recycled much of what I owned in California. There was stuff I needed. Like a table. And a chair. Forks. You get the picture. So I started going to the used, thrift, vintage--whatever you want to call them--stores in Austin. But I hadn't ever been to Austin's City-Wide Garage Sale at the Palmer Center. There are still some things I need: a kitchen step stool, for example, a screwdriver or two. I didn't get either of those things--no step stools, an overwhelming number of screwdrivers (I just walked away from that bin). But I saw lots of cool stuff (Texans have A LOT of stuff!)

If only I had more arms and feet.

Humor comes in pink.

Precursor to the phone case.

Shiny things.

Yes, please.

What I bought.

I needed the skillet. I'd been looking for cast iron skillets in the used shops, but hadn't found one that didn't seem really over priced or just too worn out. The man I bought this skillet from and I had a long conversation about cast iron skillets when I asked him for the price of the one I as interested in. He said, "This is a real Wagner." The look on my face probably told him exactly how much I knew about cast iron skillets. And when he asked me about that, I told him, "nothing." Which is true. He suggested that next time I want to buy something at a garage sale, I should probably not tell the seller that I know nothing about what I want to purchase. Point taken. (Out of curiosity, not because I doubted him, I looked up Wagner cookware when I got home. Apparently, I do have a real one.)

Anyway, he told me a lot more than I have ever wanted to know about cast iron cookware. But it was really interesting, and I enjoyed talking to him. One of the things I love about living in Texas (and there are a number of things I really despise) is listening to Southwestern accents. Of all the accents I used to hear in the Bay Area, the Southwestern wasn't among them. Lots of Southern drawls, for sure, but they are not the same thing. The twang sounds like home to me, and I can listen to it all day.

So I pad $15 for the skillet--a steal I was assured. I also bought a "vintage" billiard ball, for which I have no explanation.