Hello, My Friends!~~~
On Thursday I headed over to an estate sale in a pretty neighborhood of late 1960's homes.
I arrived about an hour and 15 minutes before the 9 a.m. opening and got number 12. The folks who run this sale don't give out numbers so whoever arrvies first becomes by default "the number person." At every estate sale I go to, I usually see the same people, the early folks, who I call "the usual suspects." You know who these people are, the dealers, the serious collectors, the pickers. Quite a few of them in the line are professional dealers who do this as thier regular jobs. I usually stand around near them listening ever so carefully in the hopes of gathering interesting info. Stealthy, I know, but what else are you going to do in line for over an hour?
Now, becuase I am a semi-regular to local estate sales a few of these folks have gotten to know me by name. Some of the regulars I don't know by name only by sight as they are IMO a little snotty and narcissistic and very clichy with their "friends". One woman in particular spends most of her time in line bragging to her cronies about the great deal she got on something that some estate sale company "knew nothing about" and that she can sell for a huge profit. Or she'll condemn quite loudly certain estate sale companies and how they pretty much exist to rip her off. Un hunh. She's just one of the interesting regulars, but the one I remember the most from Thursday's sale.
Now on to the sale. The house had a garage and basement--my two favorite places to search in an estate sale (attics are actually number 1, but are rarely available to search through). I headed directly to the basement.
The basement was a warren of nooks and small spaces. I had to be very stealthy taking photos as the sale was quite crowded. Here is a hairy sort of dude (or is is Hagrid?) searching through the huge assortment of tools available.
I had to take this photo of the other half of the basement on the fly. What I didn't get was a photo of the record guys at the other end of this room hunched down over a pile of records and not letting anyone get near them.
Here is the garage where I managed to snag a nice assortment of vintage Christmas. One of the folks in line waiting to get in is a dealer who I met earlier in the year. He made sure that I knew he was now into vintage Christmas because that was what he sells on line this time of year. Seriously, dude? I didn't sweat it as I am faster than he is ;). See this lady with long hair sitting on the floor? She was browsing through a pile of vintage looking books. I treid to look at one of the several piles and she announced "I need to look through those first." Well...OK...so I backed slowly away hands in the air. Then she came back to reality realizing that this wasn't her exclusive estate sale and invited me to look at the books. I told her I would do so after she had her way with them. And I did and didn't find anything that gave me a thrill.
Here is an unexciting photo of the kitchen nook window looking out on the backyard. Before the sale started I walked around the outside of the house and spied a pretty iron garden wall pot holder. One of the ladies in line, I have learned, loves that sort of thing and I showed it to her. She said that she would like to buy it. However, I later learned that nothing outside of the house was for sale. I thought that was odd considering the house is to be put on the market very soon.
The line to check out extended into the living room. The guy rubbing his head is a nice fellow and really into tools, I mean REALLY into tools. It was all he talked about in line before the sale opened. The dude in the flat Norwegian-style sailor's cap is a record guy who I avoid becuase he'll step on your grandma to get to records and anything else he wants. What you don't see is the lady sitting in a chair by the white floor fan. She was the know-it-all in line I first mentioned. She held court in the chair by the fan and made sure that all of us in line could hear more of her previous estate sale conquests punctuated her tales of grandeur with wheezy cackles of laughter only a chain-smoker can deliver.
I hope you enjoyed this estate sale adventure. Sometimes waiting in line can be the most interesting part of the adventure. But not this time. I came home with some lovely Christmas goodies I am anxious to transform into dime store-inspired decorations. Take good care!~~~XXOO, Beth