Steptoes Yard in Montrose, or as they call it the 'only museum in the world where everything is for sale' or as I call it 'HUSBAND THIS PLACE IS MORE MAGNIFICENT THAN ANYTHING I'VE EVER DREAMED OF!!' It was amazing.
It was like a gigantic, magical farm full of things and stuff. I didn't get very many pictures of outside but INSIDE:
Every square inch was filled with magic and rainbows (Husband says 'junk', but he's rude and lacks imagination). There was a whole room dedicated to glass:
a whole room dedicated to crockery:
boxes of postcards and pens:
It was MENTAL! And I know what you're thinking: Eilidhbelle, you're a lady of wonderful taste and style, surely you didn't pass up the opportunity to bag some wonderful items for Bumbaleerie Mansions?!
Thank you for asking! I did! A PINK PYREX!
I summoned the Lady. 'Madam' I sez, 'I must have these for entertaining purposes. Name your price, although it is totally irrelevant, I shall be taking them no matter how many times I have to cross your palm with silver.' Husband glared at me over her shoulder. He had said previously that I could only get them if they cost less than 17p, which was frankly unrealistic. Sometimes Husband loses touch with reality.
'That's an original lemonade set, from the 50s' she said doubtfully. Husband rolled his eyes, he always thinks people are trying to con us, whereas I believe EVERYTHING no matter how unlikely. 'It'll cost you twelve quid, no haggling'. My brows furrowed. 'I thank you for your frank honesty, my good woman. However, it cannot have escaped your notice that there is one glass missing from the set. There are only FUNF glasses, where there would have once been SIX. We simply MUST come to some arrangement regarding the bucks, before my Husband keels over in your fine establishment.' I leaned closer and winked at her, lady-to-lady. I think she appreciated that.
'SOLD! Don't wrap them up, I'll need them for the drive home where I'll be pretending to live in yesteryear and toasting other passengers. I thank you for your time, and also your magnificence in this matter.'
And we left, one of us (me) skipping (carefully, didn't want to drop what is almost certainly original 1950s glasswear, and not something that could have been picked up in Asda), while hissing 'Husband! I think I made a new friend! I am friends with Steptoe Lady! We're mates! She almost certainly thinks I'm charming!' even though said Lady was glaring at us, clearly happy we were leaving. Husband was practically running back to the car, holding on to my sleeve in case 'you're tempted to buy more crap for our house'. UNGRATEFUL!