If you're an organic gardener, Texas-style, a trip to Cedar Hill will be time well spent. Looking for that perfect Abelmoschus moschatus (silk flower) or Rudeckia Herbstsonne (with giant lush leaves like you won't believe)? This is the place. And, if it's a backyard water garden or pond you're wanting to fill with plants, the folks here will tell you whether their lilies or Horsetail or maybe even a little Cork Screw Rush is what you need. They've also got the basics, from cedar mulch to herbs and helpful landscape designing. Even gardening guru Howard Garrett sings this place's praises.

While the rest of the world seems to love soccer almost to the point of obsession, we doubt that many people in Dallas would be able to identify the name Pelé or tell you when to catch the next World Cup. (And if we valued our status as Texans, we wouldn't dare say that we stayed up till wee hours to watch World Cup games but fell asleep during the Super Bowl.) So, for all you soccer subversives out there, Soccer Corner is a "football" mecca. They have all sorts of equipment for actual players--balls, clothing, protective gear--plus T-shirts and hats for those of us who couldn't make a goal if our life depended on it. If nothing else, being a soccer fan will add a little European flair to your life--especially if you buy the "Soccer Players Do It For 90 Minutes" bumper sticker.

If you've got Scottish blood and find yourself in dire need of the lowland "tuxedo" of your native land, all you need to do is call Barbara and Charlene McGowan and schedule a visit to their in-home shop in Arlington. Their kilts, commissioned from a kilt-maker in Scotland, are the real deal and come with all the accessories--the sporran (leather purse) and the sgian dhu (the small dagger traditionally worn in the sock). The entire outfit can run as high as $1,000, but who's counting? In business since '91, the McGowans annually hold a July 1 bash to commemorate Scotland's repeal of the ban against kilts back in 1782, serving up food from the homeland and a contest to determine which kilt-wearer has shown up with the best knees.

Even the chain grocery stores are stocking Boca burgers, Gardenburgers and other fake meat now. But those who want the good stuff--the filet mignon and caviar of the vegetarian world, if you will--can find the largest selection at the Veggie Garden restaurant stacked in freezer cases at the back of the dining room by the buffet. There's Tuno (the fake tuna that tastes like the real deal when mixed with Veganaise, the fake mayo, for Tuno salad sandwiches) and little chicken wings made from soy, with small wooden rods serving as bones. Trust us; they taste much better than they sound. These same fake meats are used in Veggie Garden's all-vegan buffet and menu dishes. Its sister restaurant, Suma's Veggie Cafe, has a small grocery section in its dining room as well.

We troll all over town for steals and like this place best because of the high quality of the resale items. The staff is pleasant, un-pushy. The atmosphere is clean. The prices are reasonable. Make sure to negotiate at the front desk, because they'll usually knock off 10 percent just because you had the nerve to barter.

Of the five Dallas locations and three in Denton County, this Lower Greenville store is the flagship, offering the entire gamut of the hard stuff as well as 1,500 brands of wine, ranging from the best produced by Texas wineries to imports from all over the world. If it's beer you're stopping in for, reserve some time to look over the 100 or more brands, ranging from domestic to imported to microbrew labels. Bottom line is that wine is the specialty of the house, proven by the fact that Goody purchasing director Dick Rick Jr. annually travels throughout Europe, South America and Australia to buy the best of the best.

This category is about quantity. Of the rows of chocolate Super Target sells, which include your standard Halloween-sized bags of Almond Joys, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Snickers bars and the like, there is one deal that will make your eyes pop out: Super Target, the bigger and more upscale version of regular Target, sells a Toblerone bar the size of a fire log for next to nothing. We're talking 14.1 ounces of pure Swiss-made, almond nougat chocolate ecstasy for $4.99. If the triangular-shaped treat isn't your taste, 3.05-ounce Lindt bars can be found for $1.79, and bigger still Cadbury bars, weighing in at a belt-busting 4.05 ounces, go for just $1.29.

The Ole Moon has some of the most inspired hand-crafted jewelry you're likely to find anywhere. Constructed of silver, gold and semiprecious stones, this collection of bewitching baubles, bangles and chains is designed by skilled artisans with a sharply focused eye toward distinctive display.

From the soft, soothing voices to the plush robes and slippers, scented foot mists and cups of herbal tea, everything in this quiet, peaceful spa is first-class. Offerings include a three-hour aromatherapy "double body treatment" featuring exfoliation, body wrap, scalp treatment and full-body massage, or go for the all-day, six-hour respite that compounds these pleasures with a facial, sports manicure and pedicure and a little spa cuisine for the appetite. Either way, this place dishes out extreme pampering.

Remember the scene in Mallrats where Brodie and T.S. head to the "dirt mall" for a little spiritual cleansing and wind up having their fortunes told by a three-nippled Priscilla Barnes? Well, this place is a little like that; we've never actually visited this flea market's fortunetellers, and there are several, but we're taking it on faith one's gotta have something special up her, ahem, sleeve. If not, there's still plenty o' plenty to keep you occupied from 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. Saturday and Sunday--when this joint is open, which means it must be special--from rows of "retailers" peddling "leather" apparel to the dude selling samurai swords (fun for the kids!) to the furniture outlet loaded with stuff we might actually buy, were this 1994. Our fave destination here is the guitar shop--prices so reasonable we bought a National steel and don't know how to play it--but we're also fond of just spending a day without spending a dollar, though the booth selling retro bumper stickers for stoners did get us to cough up a quarter. The dust here got us to cough up a lung.