What is a monkeybox?

When I was a little girl, we had a pet monkey named Amanda. My Dad worked in the produce business, so each night he brought home that days culls in a big box - spotty cucumbers, pithy apples, limp celery, moldy oranges and the like. We called it a monkeybox. It was really just trash, but my Mom would take each piece of fruit and trim it, pare it and cut it up to make a beautiful fruit platter for Amanda. Even though it was deemed trash by one, it still had life left in it and was good for the purpose we needed it. That's how I live my life - thrifting, yard saling, looking for another's trash to be my treasure.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

A quick hello to all my yardsalequeen friends!

I am headed out to a thrift sotre (*SHOCK*) then to a double coupon store with my coupons. DH is on vacation this week and he is following me around the house hopelessly lost. He wanted to help me match the socks earlier. Puleeze! GET OUT OF HERE! He finally went outside to trim back a flower bush that I requested be done about two weeks ago. He will do anything for anyone - you just have to ASK him to do it. He isn't the type to see that the vacuum should be run or the toilet scrubbed.

I hope he doesn't follow me around the thrift - I need my space. I will make him go search the Levi's for LEVI'S tags. That should ocuppy him and make him feel like he is "helping". If he finds a pair, I will owen him big time!

Hint of the Day: Keep your sanity when DH is around for nine straight days. (Okay - that is just a hint for me!)
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