No Fridgie Left Behind

My mantra is, No fridgie left behind. I mean it when I say it.

My husband and little miss made me go to a flea market one evening. I wasn't seeing a darn thing at a single table. I passed through one, started to continue on my way, but had my inner Pyrex radar go off. I cruised back in, straight to a dusty bin at the back hiding under a table. I pulled every duty thing out and found this Woodland 503.

Now, Woodland is not my thing at all, but "No fridgie left behind," right? I rescued it, cleaned it up, and have already traded it for a piece of Gooseberry I need for my daughter's set.

Then on Sunday we were heading out to an estate sale when we made a detour to a yard sale. Sundays are not usually yard sale days here, so I was intrigued. We live close to the university where there are some older, wealthier houses so again, intrigue. We found the yard sale, a table of goods in a dusty front yard in front of an old bungalow. I told my husband it didn't look like anything good. Then at the same time we both yelled it: "Fridgies!"

What we saw was Butterprint. Again, this was a table in a front yard. No one was out. I jump doug of the truck and pick dup the fridges. I went up to the front door. No doorbell. I knocked on the wrought iron screen door. No response. I saw the inner door was cracked so I yelled "hello" a few times. Still no response. I stood there stupefied. I thought, do I just take them and leave some money? I mean, I was not about to leave without these fridges. I gave another knock, another yell. My husband got out of the truck and started toward the backyard, and as he did so out comes the tenant, who apparently was renting from his uncle.

Well, I got my fridgies. I asked how much. He said, make me an offer. I said, $5. He said okay. Then he asked if I even knew what there were. I said yes. He said, can you tell me? I have no idea. Wow, just wow. I told him all about it and then went to the truck. My little miss had already flipped up half the backseat and laid out a blanket for me. 

This is some of the filthiest Pyrex I have purchased. My husband was talking with the proprietor and he said he pulled them out of a shed in the backyard. They had apparently been there for somewhere around fifty years. That is amazing for this part of the country. His uncle had realized he needed to clean out and was starting to sell stuff. You can bet your bottom dollar I'll be back. 

Here's what they looked like prior to a hot water bath. They came out sparkling clean. It was really amazing. The paint is bright, dark, and no scratches. The lids had nary a chip or rough spot. I'm keeping these even though I have this set. I've recently decided to collect every 501, which also means I need third 501 of the sets I am going to collect. I've also decided to start a stack of extra 503s. The 502, well, I use those all the time. 

Happy hunting!

Jacquelyn

(You can see my other amazing find this week here.)