great finds

This is the kind of thing that gladdens the heart of this old rag picker ... Last month at my local second-hand store, Doubletake, I found a nice long Jones New York sweater in maroon, which I have since worn several times with pleasure. Today, as I zipped in for a quick scour, there was a short-sleeved Jones New York dress in a similar colour. At home, I saw to my amazement that the dress is the exact same material as the sweater; they're a set, obviously were bought together. What are the chances of my finding the sweater and a month later, the matching dress? For a total cost of $10? Be still, my beating heart.

It's events like this that keep me hooked. Yes, I'm an addict, my friends. I went to the Eaton's Centre on various errands today, and found my jaw dropping at the prices. In fact, the spectacle of all that stuff turned my stomach. But easy for me to say, when I can afford the time and effort to hunt for spectacular deals second-hand.

Cold today - definitely fall. The garden is shrivelling, the last blooms wrapping up, the ground piled high with yellow leaves. My friend Lynn in France read my despairing post about Rob Ford. "That's the trouble with democracy," she wrote. "Stupid people get to vote too."

Speaking of stupid people, my daughter is going out for Hallowe'en as Sarah Palin. She's looking for a snappy red jacket and little rectangular glasses. I suggested she complete her outfit with a snappy shotgun. "Great idea!" she said.

"And maybe a dead moose," I added.