127sale, episode 5. In which we expand our collections.

As I'm looking back on these photos and reminiscing, I'm getting the fleamarketing itch all over again.  I hope these photos of muggles and their mysterious possessions are working their magic on you, too.  I know some will look upon such scenes and think that would be the LAST place they'd want to be dragged to on a weekend morning, or definitely the LAST place they would want to fly/drive/vacation to, but I know there are others (like Mari and me) who simply have that constant craving (with apologies to k. d. lang) for a good sale or flea market.  It also makes me want to get up from the computer and go look at my stuff, but, actually, I don't have very far to go to satisfy my wanderlust.

I just need look a few inches above the monitor to a floating shelf that hovers with the stoic flight of about 20 owls, one of my first collections (begun with a bubbly little porcelain "weather owl" perched atop two books that used to change hue with the temperature back when I was in third grade).  More on my little fluttering parliament (I had to look that one up) another time.

I think I've warned about the potential "danger" of shopping without a purpose, the result of which is usually the birth of yet another new collection.  Well, despite her best efforts, and because of her eye for a bargain, and also because of the carefully, artfully, and colorfully displayed glassware you see here, Mari started a new collection.  Three milky white hobnail vases are now on display in our master bath.

Always accessorize
in odd numbers.

One is too lonely.  A pair looks like you planned it.  Three is a haphazard little collection that looks like you don't put a lot of effort into decorating when the truth is you actually DO spend a lot of time think(obsess)ing about it.  (There, I just saved you hours of watching HGTV and DIY.)

When you see this kind of display at a sale you might be tempted to buy (hoard) as much as you can, especially at the reasonable 127sale price (most pieces were $1, $3, or $5).  We've learned over the years to TRY to be more selective and to appreciate pieces that really speak to us.

We have also learned to have a safe word (question, in our case) when it comes to fleamarketing. When either or both of us gets a little too giddy about a collectible or a "bargain," one of us has to step back and ask, "Where are you going to put that in our home?"

If you can't visualize it in

your home, leave it behind

for another collector.

If we can rationalize an answer, if we plan to replace something with this picked prize, if we can picture it in an increasingly rare empty spot on a shelf, table, or corner in our home, then a deal will be made.  Otherwise, we will admire the object one last time and sigh an appreciative sigh of longing as we walk away.

I still can't get over finding all of these sales against the lush summer backdrop of Kentucky and Tennessee!  This is one of my favorite pictures of my wife because of the vivid setting, because she's doing something I know she loves (with someone I know she loves), and also because it kind of looks like she's giving me a well-deserved dirty look of exasperation from behind her sunglasses for taking yet ANOTHER photo of her.  She doesn't realize it, but I live for those dirty looks!

In addition to the $9 spent on the new-to-us white hobnail collection, there was a wide variety of other lucky finds and bargains that help make up the collections in our home.  In addition to owls, I collect glass (mostly millefiori) paperweights; vintage (mostly accordian-style) cameras, razors (mostly 1920s Art Deco), and cuff links (mostly big & eccentric styles from the 1950s); and a few other curiosities we don't really need to go into right now without risk of alerting the hoarding authorities.  I'm certain Mari has the number on speed-dial in anticipation of the day when I go over the edge (clutching "just one more" owl).  I am happily satisfied/cluttered to report, however, that I was able to add to each of these collections during our visit to the 127sale.

Why do we keep adding to and creating collections?  Why do we fleamarket?  Why do we clutter cyberspace with philosophical conundrums?  More secondhand philosophy and getting swallowed by a giant rocking chair next time.