Meadowbrook to Oxenford

We headed east into the wilds of Logan, ignoring the Sallies at Berrinba and Vinnies at Meadowbrook because of time constraints. My destination was the Authentic Church oppie at Meadowbrook, where we had to negotiate a sea of witches hats; turns out it is a Covid-19 testing centre.

The girls looked less than impressed but I had been here before and knew that appearances can be deceptive.  There are actually three separate sections, all loaded with cheap goodies.  I found a whimsical teapot here, but bravely resisted buying it, because I do not need it and have nowhere to put it.  I have since been chided on Facebook for leaving it there.

We then hit the M1 for the first time, exiting near Dreamworld for the Uniting Church oppie, which was called Living Rivers when Michael and I did the recce.  Another good one packed with stuff, where free bread was on offer. This meant one less thing to buy before nightfall. My excellent pick-up here was the banana earrings, which cost me $2.  

By now, the rain, which had been threatening since we left Grand Plaza, started to fall and we all acquired a rainwater rinse en route back to the car. Oxenford was the next stop, because there are four op shops there.

We skipped the Salvos, saving it for later if we had time, and started at the Anglican.  This is quite good, if a little expensive, and is well-hidden in the middle of Oxenford Square, a complex whose best days are behind it.  

I can't remember which shop it was, but I had a golden moment when Jo said "Can you keep a lookout for any books by John Bourne?" to which I replied "Like this one", because there was one right in front of my nose. It was the only John Bourne book found all trip.

The Community Op Shop is on the outside of the same centre, and it was the most disorganised shop of the whole outing.  Stuff piled everywhere, and clothing so tightly packed on the rack, it is hard to look at anything..  Some of the books are quite expensive, but the $10 rack of designer clothes was half price and Jo picked up two treasures there.  She found a pink-and-white Carla Zampatti top and a silvery grey Sandra Soulos top, both of which should have excellent resale potential.

By now, the sky was black and the thunder was rumbling ominously.  The proprietor of the shop took pity on us, and showed us an awning in front of a shop which had closed up for the day, where I could park the car in case of hail.  I went for a walk in the rain and did just that.  When no hail eventuated, we drove to the nearby Lifeline, and I parked next to a gutter with some water in it.  This shouldn't be a problem, I thought

This Lifeline was wonderful.  It's a bit of a TARDIS, because it looks really little from outside, but isn't.  I found a jug/vase as soon as we walked in, and tried to talk myself out of buying it.  I didn't need it, but just loved it.  I looked it up online, and it was from a Danish range called Just by Rikki Tikki, so I figured it was my Danish blood that was telling me to buy it.  Then I spotted a truly quirky pair of silvery bookends featuring thongs (in the Australian context) and had to have these too.  I just beat Jan to them.

I bought an orange top that I didn't particularly like, but thought I might need for O-themed Wednesday. It was cheap enough.  The other thing that was truly amazing about this shop was the arrangement of books laid out on table, all sorted by the colour of their spines. This is NOT the way to sell novels. Alphabetical order by author is the go, otherwise I will not even bother to look. 

Back to the car we went with our booty, all well supplied with G- themed clothing, only to find that the gutter next to the driving-side door was now a raging torrent. Wet leggings and cold feet followed. It was fine on the other side of the car!  There was a Woolies nearby, so we provisioned ourselves and headed back to the M1. The rain poured and the traffic crawled, all the way to the Smith Street exit. We have not had to drive in conditions like this on any previous road trips, and I was the lucky one behind the wheel.