Yard sale finds

It’s a good day when I find original art at a yard sale. Thank you, artist around the corner who dug out some old pieces and decided to stick them out at the yard sale. It’s a sweet hillside town, rural, I think, but it’s the spacious sky with a great swooping cloud that makes me pick up the painting three times before I decide to buy it for a mere $10.

I’ve been trying to gather more information about the objects I find, especially the stories behind them, so I ask if she remembers the location depicted in the painting.

“Do you know where that is?” she asks.

“The little painted houses on a hill make me think Guatemala or maybe somewhere in South America,” I say.

She laughs at my guess that turns to be way, way off.

“I painted that from the top of the Kendall Square garage in Cambridge,” she says, smiling. “Do you know that area?”

“I’ve parked in that garage next to the cinema so many times,” I say. “I can’t believe that’s Cambridge. Local art!”

I even catch Maple admiring it.

I also find this cute vintage-inspired bag (purse or reusable grocery tote, depending on the day) and toss this retro bracelet into it at the next yard sale where a woman says, “I love your bag.”

I also score a strawberry pot, which just about saves the strawberry plant that was just waiting for a roomy replanting. In the soil from another pot I fish out a peanut from a local squirrel that’s getting to work collecting for the winter. It’s a game: the neighbor scatters peanuts around and the squirrel plants them all over the neighborhood. Every time I find one I hide it again and hope that the squirrel will find it in its new spot. I picture the fuzzy guy looking at the map, digging around my basil, and coming up empty handed. Something tells me my tomatoes will disappear next year.

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