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:


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.


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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