From Virgin to Addict: The Estate Sale Edition

This morning in the locker room after Group Power class, I overheard two ladies talking about a jumbo – jumbo isn’t an exaggeration – estate sale that was about to begin in an affluent park-side neighborhood nearby. As a lover of all things home, I knew that I’d have to “sacrifice” some study time to pay a trip to this event. And it’s a jolly good thing I don’t have much homework to do right now because the sale roped me in for about an hour and a half. I mean, this was one HUGE mansion, and absolutely everything – I’m talking perfumes, gloves, paintings, rugs, the whole lot – were up for grabs. Plus, the lady, who, by the way, spent the last two months of her life getting her belongings ready for the 4 day sale, was a collector of very unique things, which made the hunting experience all the better. I just wish I had a storage unit that I could have filled with some of her gorgeous furniture; I live in a studio, so I simply bought a funky hand-painted serving dish in the shape of a turkey, something rustic and traditionally Mexican to put in my display case, and a few kitsch pillows made in Peru back in the late ’80s. In truth, the items for sale were fun to peruse, but the house itself was the thing to see:

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The house consisted of four floors, too many rooms to navigate, and a basement, all of which were filled with bits and bobs from big to small to buy.

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This is the dining room, but the kitchen to the right was one of my favorite “hunting” spots.

After the estate sale, I decided that the library could wait a few more hours because I desperately needed to get my bike touched up. I have lived in rainy Oregon for three years, and I FINALLY decided – two months before leaving, no less – that I should probably spend the agonizing $40 for a set of fenders. No more wet bum!

All shiny after a trip to the bike spa.

All shiny after a trip to the bike spa.

This evening, I’m going out to dinner with a friend of mine who is engaged and moving to France. Eating in restaurants is still challenging for me because I like to know exactly what goes into my food and where the ingredients are from, but the more I eat out, the easier it gets. It’s funny how something so hard for me is nothing but joyful for others; I remember when I’d get excited to out to supper with my friends and family, and calories/ organics/ types of oils did not even cross my mind.. In truth, I don’t believe I will ever return to that utterly carefree state, but I do believe that I can get close enough. As for now, I’m just glad I can even go on a dinner date, even if they are few and far between; a year ago, I would rather have run one hundred miles straight than eat food from a kitchen other than mine. Slow and steady wins the race.

 

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