Obsessed on two fronts

Front #1:  The school auction.  I am doing it again.  Because my middle name is SUCKA!  I have some highly competent and experienced help this year.  I did last year, too, but now I know what to ask for.

Front #2:  ebay.  I sold those shoes that I mentioned in my last post.  Then a high end sweater ($68.50 plus shipping).  That means I've netted around $275.  Not bad, right? So I'm on the HUNT!  for anything that is priced very low and seems like it might be a hit.    The best part is writing the description.  I feel like Elaine on Seinfield when she worked for Peterman.

For example:

"These Black Danskos have a red accent and a sporty adjustable strap at the ankle for a precise fit.  They feature a waterproof padded section around the top of the shoe, leather for the main part of the shoe, and the standard thick rubber clog sole.      

They are in excellent condition.  The sole has no visible wear and the leather is clean and uncreased.  The interior has no sweat or dirt marks.  There was a little dust on the creases on the bottom which cleaned up easily.  If it hadn't been for that I would have said these were NWOT.  

If you're not already addicted to Dansko comfort and style, these shoes will win you over.  They are favorites of nurses, chefs, flight attendants, and anyone else who spends long hours on their feet.  Try these out or supplement your collection!  You can't have too many Danskos"

I don't want to say what I paid for them because maybe you want to bid on them.   I'll say this:  the amount I spent would send you running to the nearest thrift store to find your own bargain. I don't care for danskos, myself, or I'd keep them.  But I'm a wooden sole kind of girl.  

An update, in case you are wondering:

The brown shoes mentioned in the last post sold for $105 plus shipping ($8).  They are being sent to someone in Ohio.  The red ones have 12 hours to go and are currently up to $113.

Dabbling in re-sale, thrifting, and blogging.

What I didn't buy: 

 Who donates a whole rack of bowling balls?  These would be an awesome art installation type feature if you had an enormous rec room.  You could make a huge marble roll thing--like a gyrotron?  those wire sculptures from the 70s...but huge, with bowling balls instead of marbles.  If I didn't have children I'd be a famous artist, or just a famous crazy person, clearly.   But I'm terribly busy doing whatever it is I do while they're at school.   I guess I go thrifting, and blog.   

What I did buy: 

 This fabulous mid-century magazine rack/ash tray.  This styling lady was thrifting with her styling husband.  Who gets a husband who will thrift?  Lucky!  She approved.  I put it in the new bathroom, where it looks so groovy.  The place where the ashes once were tapped now holds the soap.  I haven't even revealed the new garage lounge/bathroom.  Maybe next post.  

I also bought:

Would you wear these shoes?  If I had small feet (size 6, narrow) I would wear the ones on the left.  They are so gorgeous that I bought them anyway, for $10.  They still have the price sticker on the bottom--you can't quite read the numbers, but I looked them up:  Chie Mihara shoes run between $300-$400.  I knew they were pricey, but that took me by surprise.  Sadly,  none of my friends has feet quite that small.  So there they are, all $350 retail's worth.

The ones on the right, I would not wear, myself, but they are brand new Salvatore Ferragamos.  No wear whatsoever.  They set me back $5.  Some well-heeled (haha, sorry) country club lady never must have decided red wasn't her color. Or something.   Size 11B.  Make that a well heeled country club lady with rather large feet.

So I am dabbling in Ebay land.  I have thought about this literally for years.  I was intimidated:  Ebay involves technology.  It turns out to take about 8 minutes to do a simple listing.  I have 3 bids on the brown shoes and one on the red ones.  5 days, 19 hours to go.  I'll keep you posted.

He prefers HBO, for some reason.

It has taken a year of tireless campaigning to convince The Man Who Lives In My House to watch Downton Abbey with me.  I found it myself about six months ago when he was away at a meeting.  I watched the entire first season  over the course of 3 days on Netflix.

It is, as you probably know, SO ENGROSSING.  Who will Lady Mary marry?  What is Mr. Bates' secret?  Why does Anna find him attractive?  Why is Mary so mean to Edith?  Will Sybil become a suffragette?  More importantly, will she run off with Branson, the chauffeur? And why, oh WHY is it no longer customary to dress for dinner?  Because I really want to swan around in a drapy, beaded frock.

None of this sounded appealing to TMWLIMH.  He is afraid that if he watches Masterpiece Theater, he will turn into our parents.  In fact, he might age.  Perhaps avoiding PBS is the secret to his youthful visage! (I have completely given up on hope of him ever watching antiques roadshows)

 I don't care.  The show is so good it is worth it.  I will just go get some botox.  I cajoled him into watching the opening episode of season 2 with me.

"World War I has started!"  I promised, "So there will be explosions!  And trenches.  And bad Germans, although not yet Nazis."

Well this piqued his interest, albeit grudgingly.  Is this not mysterious?  Why is a man attracted by war, but not love and intrigue and issues of social class?  He sat through the 2 hour special with me.

"What did you think? I asked him as the credits rolled,  "Wasn't it great?  Aren't you excited for next week?"

"Well, it was better than I was expecting," he admitted, "But I think they could improve it a lot if those women just took their clothes off."

Overheard

We are going to the mountains this weekend.  This plan just happened semi-spontaneously.  I informed the Hooligans.  The Larger Hooligan is in a snit because his leopard gecko is about to shed and he feels he must be there for her.  Apparently you have to provide a bed of moistened moss.  You would think that this was the birth of his first child.

The Man Who Lives In My House is the one who ok'd the aquisition of a leopard gecko.  I handed this issue off to him.  He started making some calls.  

TMWLIMH  to Lauren, one of our babysitters:  "Hi Lauren, What do you know about lizards?...............So you don't have a phobia of lizards?  Good...................How would you like to housesit a lizard this weekend?.......................No the Dog will be with us, it's just the lizard................Yeah, the hot tub is working...................Oh, what about crickets, are you ok with handling crickets?....................Yes, live ones..........

(to the Hooligan:  how often does the lizard need to eat crickets?)

..... It only needs to eat every few days.  You won't have to deal with crickets.............You'll do it?  Cool.


I don't know how much Lauren will charge us to house sit a lizard, but it's coming out of the Hooligan's allowance.

I have nothing to say. But a girl's gotta eat...

So I give you this cake:

The back story is the basic cake recipe originated off a land o' lakes butter package.  The orange/chocolate modification came from a cake called the "Cassata" that used to be served at the Bread and Ink Cafe on Southeast Hawthorne Street in Portland.  It was so good.

I think my tongue has a photographic memory.  This did not help me much in school, but it's great when I try something amazing  in a restaurant that I want to re-create at home.

Mix
3/4 C butter
3/4 C sugar
4 egg yolks
Until fluffy.

Add:
2 t grand marnier or other orange liquer,
zest of 2 oranges,
1/2 cup orange juice,
1/4 cup milk or cream,
2 t baking powder,
1/8 t salt
2 C flour
1 c mini chocolate chips (the darker the better).
Mix until just blended, pour into greased loaf pan.
Bake at 350 for about 35 minutes.

Cool and frost with a dark chocolate ganache frosting.

I make this by melting the rest of the chocolate chips and adding 1/4 butter and a little cream or milk until it has a nice spreading consistancy.

You don't really need to frost this cake--it's pretty great straight up, but frosting does make it a little fancier if you're having a dinner party or something.  Just serve it in slices, like bread.

Follow up

11:00 pm

Apparently last night my cold combined with Nyquil cause me to snore.  The Man Who Lives in My House was making a great show of going to bed early, as I had deprived him (probably deliberately)  of his beauty rest the night before.

Me:  I'm just going to read for a long time and then I'm going to fall asleep and snore a lot.
The Man Who Lives In My House (mumbling, eyes closed):   I hope not.
Me:  There's a blanket in the closet.  Wrap up in that if you need to go sleep on the couch.
TMWLIMH (appearing half asleep):  Thanks, but if you snore, i'll just use it to smother you.
Me:   Ha! That proves it!  That was totally blogable and you're not even awake.  You don't live to make me laugh.  There's no effort.
TMWLIMH:  Yeah, it just happens, like a fart.