Junking Into the Unknown

Junking is my passion, my hobby, my high.  If it were cocaine, I'd be an addict.  Some of my most facinating finds have been down dirt roads, in run-down barns and in frazzled boxes.  I like to dig and plunder. I'll pass a little hand written sign that says, "Estate Sale" or "Yard Sale" and my car automatically does a U-turn in the highway.  I don't care who's behind me, I'm slamming on brakes and turning around.  My husband has learned to just pull up front and stop because I'll jump out before he can put the car in gear.  Years ago I did it for an antique shop we had.  Now, I just do it for fun and to help a friend that is just about to open her own shop.  If you tell me it belonged to your great-aunt or your grandmother crocheted it, I'm buying it.  For the life of me, I couldn't sell something that my mother made or collected.  I'm hoping I don't turn into a horder.  But I am organized so if I do, I'll be an Orderly Horder!  I took this picture on Saturday morning.  I was waiting for my friend to arrive at her new shop so while I waited, I rode.  Hoping to see a sign.  And there it was, "Estate Sale".  A tree-lined canopy road awaited my arrival.  I was in heaven.  Even if the sale was no good, the ride was beautiful and I opened the sun roof on my car.  As I arrived and walked onto the screened in porch, my heart felt some sadness.  It was a mother's things they were selling.  She was no longer with them and they had strewn her things throughout the house with price tags.  It was something we promised our own mama we would never do with her things.  And, when she died, my sister and I kept our promise.  Among the plastic bowls and worn out frying pans, I found a beautiful picture of two angels with their arms around each other, then a pretty pottery bowl and pitcher.  I stood and looked out over the pond and saw the view that their mother must have looked at every day.  I could picture it quiet there early in the mornings with a peaceful view but there was arguing among the children. "Where's mama's CD player?"  asked one daughter.  Another one shouted, "I took it to my house and you can't have it back!"  I gave them my money and left.  I needed to be back on the dirt road, the one out front that was canopy-lined with trees.  They were standing right there in a little slice of heaven and didn't even know it.  Throwing angry words at one another that can't be taken back.  Back out on the dirt road, I let their arguing slip away from me.  I took a deep breath and it felt good to smell the fresh air.  Junking into the unknown is therapy after a long week at work.  And until next Saturday, I'll glance at this picture and hope for another surprise around the bend in the road.