ST8 Extravaganza!

Here is my first blog about estate sailing. I hope to write many more. It is a hobby and, dare I say, a passion of mine. One reason I really like estate sales is that you can find great things there. Unlike garage or yard sales, where people are getting rid of things they don't want, at estate sales EVERYTHING the person owned is being sold. That increases the quality. Also, I enjoy going through the houses, seeing how people lived. It's an interesting anthropological experience. 

The following pictures are from my adventure last Saturday. The day begin with a trip to an unusual estate sale. I guess some guy had been evicted from a house which someone had subsequently bought. The place was run down. We saw a few unusual things, like:

     Lots of plastic lunch boxes. 

Records scattered all over the floor. 

And, a gentleman's fancy, perhaps?

The house was really smelly. It looked like the guy was a packrat. The kitchen was carpeted (odd) and it had a cool stove. 

The next estate sale wasn't technically an estate sale (since nobody died) but they advertised mannequins. Ever since I saw the movie Mannequin as a kid I have been fascinated with these things. 

At subsequent estate sales, Joey found his first piece of Vaseline

glass. This kind of glass has a little 

bit of uranium in it. It's radioactive, 

and it glows in a black light. I got that orange decanter at Wasatch Furniture, which is going out of business. I used it to water Joey's newly adopted cactus. 

Later on that day the right front tire of my car went flat. Luckily, it was at a gas station at the time so I wasn't in danger of being smashed by oncoming cars. I pretended to change it, but Joey was the one who did everything. 

  Thanks Joey. Lastly, I bought this blue mixing bowl. I really like the color, and now I can make things that require some preparation. I believe that it was a very good ST8 kind of day. We even found some things in an antique store that we had bought, but for less than the store was charging. The deals are great. 

Time Traveling

I thought a lot about time yesterday. It started on my train ride to Sandy to investigate the antiques fair. I used to ride the train virtually everyday and I was quick to remember all of the buildings I saw on a regular basis. I saw the old warehouses and businesses, the rusting vehicles and empty fields. I also experienced the thoughts and feelings that I used to mull over as I rode the train toward school or back home. Although this routine ended only two years ago, I feel that I have changed considerably since then. 

I remembered how monumental school seemed. The whole institution seemed daunting:  literally as well as figuratively. I got lost on campus a few times and I felt inundated by new people, new experiences, and new demands. I could not see at the time how I would ever fit myself into this new life. 

The train ride also caused me to think of my initial experiences living on my own. I was constantly besieged by worry: how I would pay my rent, if I would be able to make a home for myself and if I would have the chance to end my loneliness and connect with people. 

My life now is much more stable. I am confident about school, even if I get a little overwhelmed at times, and I think I have cut out a place for myself in the world. Although I took the same trip that day that I had taken just a few years ago, I was able to bat away those old fears like they were insects. 

Of course, the antiques fair was a backward trip through time. I love the idea that objects that meant so much to one person can mean a lot to another person years later. Glass cases were filled with old jewelry, keys, and mysterious boxes. I ended up buying some small porcelin sake cups. I examined the design on the side and wondered who had owned them and what gave them joy. I think there is something very sterile about buying brand new products; but if I have to do so I like to think that I am the first to give the object some life. 

My last time travel adventure brought me to the future, sort of. A friend who went to the antiques fair with us told me that she was soon to get certification to open up an office for therapy. I was delighted when I heard this because that is a similar goal of mine. She gave me good advice on what education to get and the experience required to become a therapist. I am now much more sure that I can make the kind of life that I want career-wise in shorter time than I previously thought. 

I spent some time thinking about my future. I saw myself in eight to ten years doing what I really want to do: helping people. I know that I have to sacrifice now to get what I want later, but I was beginning to feel lost in all of the meaningless jobs and the many classes I've taken for school. I felt refocused after talking to this friend about therapy. 

Later on that night I was talking with someone about birthdays and aging. He said that 25 seemed like an old age. To me, however, being a certain age and feeling old aren't necessarily tied together so strictly. I think that I'll only begin to feel old when I stop moving toward my goals. Then, I won't be moving forward, or even backward. I'll be stuck in time.