Admission: Obsession

This is the post where I shamefully admit to the world that I have a newfound obsession for a particular brand of vintage bakeware.  It cannot be helped.  It also cannot be described as a newfound obsession.  I just didn't know I had such a knack for finding said vintage bakeware so easily.  The obsession has spread like a rampant virus to the other member of this 625 square foot household.  Or maybe he spread it to me.  Hard to say.  This 625 square foot household is starting to groan from the weight of all the vintage bakeware, old books, yarn, fly tying materials, canning jars and records it houses.  I fear we may wake up in our downstairs neighbors living room one night, our floor having caved in from all the weight.  I fear we may someday be featured on, dare I admit, that addictive show on the tele about...Hoarders.
 Now this is the part where I promptly distract you from said admitted obsession with a few pretty pictures...of vintage bakeware...
...and some more of that lovely brand's items...but this time in the kitschy form of oil and vinegar cruets...because...who doesn't need oil and vinegar cruets, right?  RIGHT?!
...and some more smallish bowls...bowls always come in handy and we don't have anything in either of these two prints or much green in the collection, for that matter...yeah...
...OH!  And we even have two mixing bowls to match!  Let's just search for a's one...can't find another one, but who cares!  We found a matching SET!
...and we certainly don't have any of you yet...and you're adorable!  We'll find a lid for you someday... found WHAT?!  THE Origin of Species?!  Unfortunately, we both hunted and hunted those thrift shelves (and elbowed the three used bookstore owners out of our way) but couldn't find the first part of the two-book set.  Ah well.  It still looks rather distinguished in our collection.

I think my favorite find of the weekend is the newest addition to our household, Phyllis from Salt Lake.  She is the lovely lady in the GOR-GE-OUS oil portrait I happened upon while Jon was simultaneously unearthing The Origin of Species.  It was one of those moments where we silently approached each other in the middle of the crazy, smelly, packed thrift store, both with eyes wide and jaws dropped, our treasures tightly gripped in our white-knuckled hands, half expecting an unknown assailant to rip them out of our clutches and steal them away.

My name is Anna and I am a thrift-o-holic.


  1. you should start a group with my parents...just a warning, your apt can and will turn into my dad's shop in no time.

  2. Does this admission count as a step in the "12-Step Program"?


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