Yard Sale Bloodbath

A few weeks ago I was vacationing in Palm Springs. A little sun break in the middle of Seattle winter and the possibility of estate sales in the mid-century modern capitol of the west coast. FUN!

I hit the Angel Thrift Mart, a large thrift store right in the middle of the Palm Springs on Indian Canyon Drive. I had blogged about this store last winter and ended up having the best luck there this year, buying a Louis Vuitton Epi Purse for $69 along with a Gucci ’70s bag and a killer pair of shoes. That store rocks!

On Saturday morning I talked Dan into driving with me to hit a few sales. He even looked some up for me on Craigslist. There really didn’t seem to be that much, but it’s also December. As we pulled out of the parking lot at the hotel I spotted an estate sale half a block away, so we re-parked and walked up to the house.

The garage was full and the yard was packed with statues, shells, and even a rabbit in a suit playing a fiddle.

As we walked in I was honestly freaked out by the amount of items crammed into this house. I kept saying “OH, GOD” and Dan bumped me, whispering “stop saying God in front of a nun!” I hadn’t even noticed that the sale was being run by Orthodox Jews or Orthodox Catholics (or Orthodox somethings). I felt very uncomfortable taking photos and just snuck a few.

The place was huge. I could have taken hundreds of photos. A long living room with three chandeliers, china on every surface, tapestries all over the walls along with large painting of the woman that had died. There was so much stuff! Dan was a little freaked out when he spotted a mounted kangaroo head. I was freaked out by the Christmas dolls.

Please note: I had to take two photos to try to really show how friggin’ much there was.

AND I heard later that the neighborhood association had to ask her to tone down her Christmas decor a few years back. One can only imagine after seeing the amount of stuff already on the lawn.

She did have a stuffed peacock and I found that sort of sickening, but not as bad as the stuffed swan. I am from the Midwest, been in homes filled with taxidermy as a kid. Hell, when I was growing up my home town had one of the largest taxidermy schools, but a swan?! Come on!

Dan was excited to hit a mobile home sale after that. I was less excited, since I know that folks that have downsized to a trailer probably don’t own very much. This was the most literal “drive-by” ever. We just drove around the Mobile Village and looked at the sales, then drove away.

We hit a few more sales – I loved the huge palm trees at this one.

Sadly, we did miss the “wifes gone and every thing she left must go to” sale. Sounds fun, right? Maybe she wanted someone with better spelling and grammar?

It is my pleasure today to share with you the insanity known as the Seattle Seahawks Gridiron Gourmet — a fundraiser cookbook from 1983 credited to “the Seattle Seahawks player’s wives.”

I purchased this at what we now refer to as “the freak sale.” It was in a box of wacky pamphlets that were priced at a firm $1 each. This was the only one I decided was worth it. And let me tell you, I have definitely gotten my dollar’s worth of entertainment from this baby! It’s like the Bad ’80s Hair edition of Awkward Family Photos, crossed with Gallery of Regrettable Food: The Next Generation.

The food in these photos actually has no bearing whatsoever to the featured recipe. For example, the recipe featured above is “Strawberry Trifle.” And despite this happy couple’s use of a pasta machine, their recipe is for something called “Baked Stew.”

It is kind of tragic that the food isn’t pictured. I can only imagine the glory of the “Pretzel Jello Salad” presented by this glamorous family.

Or the “Party Log” shared by these folks.

Oh yeah. Party Log. Ingredients: cream cheese, scallions, olives, and one small jar of dried beef. Sounds like a party to me!

The sheer datedness of this thing is pretty amazing. Here’s a shot where — if you can believe it — they have a whole role reversal thing going on. I mean, isn’t it wacky how the man is serving the food to the woman?! If that was ever to happen, they’d obviously be wearing the “wrong” clothes.

Their recipe is “Carrot Cake,” which seems sane enough, except for the inclusion of “3 small jars strained carrots (baby food).” (For completely unknown reasons, this is one of two baby-food-using carrot cake recipes.)

I think this next shot may also be trying to make some kind of commentary on the inability of the menfolk to perform simple food preparation tasks like putting together a sandwich. Though I suspect that trying to deconstruct these pictures is a losing battle.

There is definitely something a little off with a lot of these photos. Like this one — naturally, the accompanying recipe is “Frosted Peanut Butter Bars.”

Not to mention this. Football players, or serial killers?

In case anyone gets the wrong idea about these two, their “Buttermilk Pancake” recipe clearly states that it makes “about 15 bachelor-sized pancakes.” Get it? They’re not a couple. Just two bachelors, hanging out together, enjoying the finer things in life. Until Mrs. Right comes along and takes away their Bud and potato chips.

There isn’t much evidence for the cooking skills of some of the wives, either. There is no food in this photo, and the recipe is for “Russian Tea.” Bet you didn’t know there’s Tang in that.

These two, however, are shown with a bountiful array of produce. Clearly, they’re toasting their good fortune to be in possession of such a large zucchini.

The decor in these photos is also worth mentioning. In the sense that it’s practically non-existent.

Really, did everything just look wrong in the ’80s?

There were many more pages in this cookbook. Many, many more. But I think you get the idea. I’ll just leave you with one more of my favorite pages, which has a recipe for Rutabaga Apple Casserole. The photo that was chosen to go with that?

Yeah, I’m pretty sure this gem was worth $1.