Monday, July 16, 2012

Can I get $1?

Funny how life gets in the way of everything else.

I write blog posts in my head pretty much everyday. Even more than I write Facebook status in my head, which is saying a lot.

I have a lot of projects and updates I need to be post, but they’ll have to wait for another day.

Today, I’d like to talk about auction sales. The last auction sale I went to was for my great-grandma. I think I was 5 or 6. I don’t remember much. It was hot. Mom wasn’t there so I got to eat and drink whatever I wanted.

My second auction sale was Saturday, July 14th. And it was a very different experience.

But, let’s start at the beginning. 18 months ago, my wonderful FIL passed away unexpectedly. He was in a horrible accident and left us way to soon. I loved him. He was a great man. Kind and funny. I was very lucky to have met him and know him for 13+ years. When I met my husband, my FIL was a contractor. He had a construction company, doing remodels, managing rental houses, finding great deals wherever he could. Before that he was a shop teacher. And I swear he knew everyone from South Dakota to Canada, Montana to Wisconsin. You might think that’s an exaggeration, but I’m not kidding. He never knew a stranger. And everyone he met immediately loved him.

He did have faults, though, and one was a big one. He liked junk. And he had a lot of it.

So, while I loved him, I also cursed him. He had so.much.stuff. Too much stuff. At least to someone going through it all, it seemed that way. Buildings on the farm, buildings in town, lots here, lots there…all of them full of stuff. All full of crap treasures. But it wasn’t just his stuff. He also had his parent's stuff, his in-law’s stuff and his uncle’s stuff. Add that all up and you have a lot of stuff. Stuff to sort, stuff to throw, stuff to keep and stuff to sell.  Stuff, stuff and more stuff. Hours, days and weekends worth of stuff.

Sparky, his mom, his sisters, BIL, nephews and I have spent quite a few days moving, sorting and throwing away all this stuff. And for what? To get ready for an auction sale. And this was no ordinary auction sale. Vehicles, tools, antiques, appliances, cabinets, paint, shovels, rubber boots. You name it, we had it. A junk lovers dream. Obviously, family gets first shot on stuff. The good stuff. The stuff my FIL pulled out of old barns, rental houses and anywhere else he found something he thought could be reused. The stuff he built, the stuff he treasured, the stuff he thought was good enough to bring home. The stuff he wanted to fill up his bins and buildings and yard with.

This is my some of my good stuff:

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It's great stuff. Stuff that makes me happy. Stuff that I know will go great in our house. Stuff that means something. Stuff that Sparky agreed could come home with us.

And this is what the a stuff at the auction looked like:

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North Dakota in July can go a couple of ways. Hot and humid and no wind. Or hot and kinda humid and 50 mph wind. (Awesome either way.) We ended up with hot and humid and no wind. And still ended up with a great turnout.

We had people in the yard (Sparky’s mom and dad had about 7 acres) at 9am. The auction didn’t start until 11am. (And that's with folks checking out the yard all week.)

The church ladies served a great lunch with homemade fried donuts. (Seriously, if you’ve never had them, come to ND, ask someone to make them for you…you won’t regret it. Bring sugar.)
Like I said, it was a great, sweltering hot, miserable, day.

This is what it looked like when we left on Sunday.

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And, while it may look a little sad. All of us were so freaking happy. Almost all of the stuff was gone. My MIL said she wanted to hug every person walking to their pickup or car with a box of stuff. Many, many pickup loads left the yard that day. Many people found treasures to torture pass on to future generations. (Including my dear dad, sigh.)

After this experience, I know I could easily become an auction sale junky. Waiting to get my next fix. My only caveat is, to get the good stuff I just show up and show the auctioneer my number.

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