As you may have already read, we had a garage sale recently.
[Really? I didn’t notice an entire week’s worth of annoying, melodramatic garage sale posts.]
I get your point.
But I’m here to talk about the aftermath of that traumatic experience.
On the day of the garage sale, we had a very nice woman come by and check out a set of 4 chairs we had for sale. I originally purchased them from “the tip” when we lived in England. The tip is basically a recycling center where people leave their old junk for other people to grab. Very similar to a garage sale, in fact. Minus the part where you want to pick up a blunt object and impale yourself in the eye.
[Theeeeeeere’s the melodrama.]
You can see these upcycled chairs in the background of this photo from 2010:
They are very nice-looking chairs. My mom painted them, cut new foam for them, and reupholstered them (she’s handy like that). And despite their chic appearance, they were never comfortable to sit on for more than 15 seconds. They were used for design, not practicality.
They were the stiletto heels of the furniture world.
So, I priced these chairs at $20 for all four. Because it was the end of the day, and I was ready to just give all that stuff away to the first person who would take it.
Then, along came this woman with a minivan FULL of furniture and accessories. I remember that she had a beautiful, old pew and some unique lamps. I was impressed by all her finds and happy to pass along the chairs for their original asking price, thank you very much.
That happened Saturday, April 27.
Fast-forward to the following Saturday (May 4th). My in-laws were in town, and we were driving around Kansas City, Missouri (an hour from our house), to kill some time while the kiddos napped in the car. We ended up in an area Brian now wishes we had never found. It’s called West Bottoms, and it is full of THE coolest antique and thrift shops I have ever seen—trust me, I’ve seen my fair share.
My mother-in-law and I hopped out of the car to shop while our patient husbands babysat the kids.
Just let that sink in for a minute.
The first store we entered was called Good Ju Ju, and WAS IT EVER! I practically peed myself when we walked through the door and saw room after room full of fun stuff.
[Didn’t she JUST have a garage sale to get rid of a bunch of fun stuff?]
You sound just like my husband.
Yes, but I didn’t have fun stuff like this:
Or this:
Or this:
We weaved our way through one vendor’s booth after another filled to the brim with all sorts of beautiful treasures. And when we reached the VERY LAST BOOTH, I saw a vintage, enamel table and chairs that had a fairly reasonable asking price of $137.50.
I didn’t think much of it until I stepped back and took a better look.
Basically, that savvy garage sale lady with a jam-packed minivan turned my $20 chairs into a pretty decent profit.
My mother-in-law practically had to drag me out of the store as I just stood there shaking my head.
“I can’t believe this. I mean, WHAT ARE THE CHANCES?!?!?!?”
And, just like that, some English person’s trash (literally) became my uncomfortable dining chairs that then became some other person’s $20 treasure that will then become some other person’s $137.50 uncomfortable dining chairs.
Seriously. What are the chances?
Have you ever sold (or lost) something and then found it in an unexpected place?
Katy,
Hadn’t thought about it but aren’t those the chairs that we sat in to play Rook when we visited y’all in England? If memory serves, Brian and I kicked your’s and mom’s Rook playing rear ends when we sat in those chairs. Since you’ve moved back stateside and aren’t using those chairs, we’ve had nothing but trouble during our Rook marathons.
Now I’m not superstitious but, Brian, GO BUY THOSE CHAIRS BACK!
Gman
@GMan Well, if MY memory serves, you and Brian only kicked our “rear ends” once…in 14 years. And that happened in the chairs we still have. So, you probably won’t convince Brian to buy back our old chairs for 7 times the price. Nice try, though.
PS – It’s that “memory” of yours that is the reason mom and I beat the living stew out of you and Brian every single time.
Ha! My sister got a new couch, gave us her old couch, we threw our old couch to the curb…less than 10 minutes later my neighbor’s couch was on the curb and my curb couch was gone…
Love your blog, and your vlogs….Anna from My Life and Kids sent me 🙂
-Adrienn/This Uncomplicated Journey
@Adrienn Oh, my mom and I have done our fair share of “shopping” on the side of the road. That’s hysterical that your neighbor nabbed it so quickly, though. Thanks so much for visiting, Adrienn!
Whoa! That is so cool that God allowed you to find those chairs again! I can’t think of a time I’ve seen our stuff around, but certainly my neighbor’s keep finding their curbside trash in my house!
@Karmen I know! It was cool to have the reminder that most of the “treasures” I find used to be someone’s junk (and vice versa). 🙂
A, um, a dog. That we had given away to a girl. Who later told us the dog had died. Then we found the dog on the front page of the newspaper. It’s a long story. Maybe I’ll blog about it. 🙂
CrazyAsNormal Oh my goodness! That is awful! Please send me a link if you blog about it. Now I’m all sorts of curious.
That’s pretty funny!