Anywhere, Anytime!

You’ve seen them before.  A bumper sticker that says, “caution, I brake for garage sales.”  Or something like that.  Hard core garage salers and junk shoppers have them.  Supposed to be cute.

I don’t go that far, but I have been known to make a U turn to go to a yard sale.  Just how addicted I am was revealed to me not to long ago.  On my way to the airport I knew my time was very tightly budgeted.  Strictly drive, park, transit to airport and then check in and fly.  No extra for anything.  I get nervous about being late although you’d never know it looking at how often I am late.

Happily driving along, on schedule, I saw the sign.  Roadside junk shop.  No time I told myself.  I looked at my watch to confirm.  HMMM, ahead of schedule.  If I turn around real quick and dash through the place I’ll be ok.  By the time I convinced myself of this I was a mile down the road.  I turned around and headed back.

It was a junk shop all right.  Lots of junk.  But, to find a treasure you gotta dig.  So I looked around.  Quickly.  Didn’t take long to spot the chair.  Not a chair as much as a stool. Old metal thing.  But through the rust and dirt I could see those classic lines.  Mid century modern!  The seat is torn up and wobbly.  There is rust everywhere.  But it’s basically sound.  And all the parts are there.

A little sanding and painting, a new seat and it’s better than new.  If nothing else, I can use the feet for part to another chair I’m working on.  Oh gosh, time to hit the road again.

This stop might have cost me five minutes.  Maybe ten.  But I made it to the airport in plenty of time.  And I got a treasure I might otherwise have passed up.  The number one rule of yard sales and antiquing is that if you like it at all, pick it up when you see it.  It could be gone when you come back.  And if you don’t stop to look, you’ll never find anything!  That’s the beauty of this addiction- you never know when or where you might be overtaken and forced to yield to it.  Or what you might find in the process!

That’s part of my story.  What’s yours?


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