38 yesterday morning, a mite chilly. I think there was frost on top of the van, but nowhere else. 48 this morning, and a cloudy/sunny day. Nice enough to open the door a while.
Yesterday we took off to Ohio to pick up some things for our booths. It was a beautiful morning; I almost didn't want to leave. The ridge was just stunning.
Redbuds and dogwood are in the height of their bloom right now.
Seems like we can't keep ahead of the furniture sales, a good problem to have but it means we have to take time to find new stock. After several hours on the computer Thursday and Friday, I came up with 2 chests of drawers, a table with six chairs, 4 chrome and metal chairs to go with a mid-century modern cracked-ice table we have, and an old lawnmower.
So that's 10 chairs--and it turned out to actually be 11 since there was an extra. The table and 7 chairs were free, and who can turn their back on that? They all need a little gluing, and all will need painting, but it will be a beautiful set again in the end.
The chests of drawers, which you can't see in the photos except for the top of one antique oak one painted green, had to be stacked one on top of the other to get all this in the van. The other chest is a 1930-1940 waterfall style.
When we got to the place to pick up the last chest, I really didn't think we'd get it in without leaving some chairs behind, which I didn't want to do. We unloaded everything on the sidewalk of a pretty rundown area of row houses in a city, and began trying to fit it all back in. Two young men showed up and offered to help. Now, they were rough-looking, in wife-beater shirts, tattoos, cigarettes, and the kid of skin that made you wonder if they were on drugs--that dingy, rough look, if you've seen it you know what I mean.
But those two guys were amazing. While half the neighborhood and a few dogs turned out to watch, they stacked the chests on top of each other and worked everything else in like a jigsaw puzzle. In 15 minutes it was all back in the van with hardly an inch to spare. I offered them twenty dollars for their help, which at first they refused, but finally took. It was probably the best entertainment the neighborhood had had in a while---and certainly the best for us.
Which got me to thinking about appearances. Were they druggies? Another young man had been there with them at first, dressed in a dark blue suit and white shirt. As he left, they hugged, and he said, "In two weeks I'll be getting out. I'll come back by then." I wondered if he was in drug rehab perhaps? And our helpers were actually living in a halfway house? Or was this something else altogether. Two girls there also had that druggie look, one we've sadly become familiar with in the past few years. So were they all users? Or recovering? Or did they just have the look?
And in the end, did it matter? They were all as nice as could be, funny and pleasant, no bad language flying around and so willing to take on this challenge. Even if they were users, they were good people. I was glad to have met them all, and we smiled and laughed for a long time after leaving there.
One other experience of our trip happened when we were on the way to pick up the first chest of drawers. The gps was unclear about where we should turn and we ended up going the wrong way, and up a very steep, narrow little street one lane wide. Halfway up, a Model A car was blocking the road. The driver, an elderly guy, hurried to get out of the way, but of course Larry had to stop and talk to him anyway.
The car was newly restored all original, and still had new-car tags on it. The driver was happy to tell Larry all about it. Another encounter that had us driving away with smiles on our faces. Had we made that wrong turn just to see and meet this man and his car? Apparently so.
It was a long, full day. The van is still full so I need to get to work figuring out where to put all these finds until we can get to work on them. I'm still smiling though, remembering our good day junkin'.
Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.