On Friday my in-laws and I headed north of Fargo to an estate sale. Turns out, the man holding the sale had accepted a job transfer to England so he was trying to unload as much of his American possessions as possible. He had fabulous items priced to move.
I ventured into the partly finished, partly unfinished basement. A small living area had a stone bar space that swept right into a large stone fireplace. It was beautiful. I bypassed the bar area and headed to the cold, concrete area of the basement. It appeared that this person liked to collect storage containers, as there were many sizes and styles of wooden crates and cabinets sprinkled throughout the area, all with a healthy vintage flair.
I looked over at one of three large tables set up in the middle to hold merchandise and a woman slowly lifted a furry object out of box. She stood behind the head of black bear while its eyes looked directly at me. When I averted my eyes from the scary looking gaze of the bear’s head, I spotted a fabulous vintage chair with extra sturdy bones and a muted yellow cushion on the other side of the basement.
The tag said $1. Rather than jumping at it, I circled it, thinking the tag must be missing a number and asking myself what could be wrong with it. After ten minutes of watching others walk by without even noticing the chair, I decided it needed to come home with me for some updates. My mother-in-law blazed the trail on the staircase so I could safely emerge from the basement.
I still needed to explore the main floor of the home, and when I walked into the kitchen I noticed a fantastic cabinet piece. The dark wood antique had four separate cabinets, two upper and two lower. It also had a small counter space. To put it simply, it was awesome. And the price was pretty awesome too.
So what did I do? I walked away and bought my chair for a dollar.
Once we got to the car, all I could think about was that cabinet. Why on earth didn’t I buy it? I was just kicking myself. I kicked myself all the way back to Fargo and until my husband came home from work. I knew he wanted to go to the sale, so that’s one thing that saved my sanity.
I thought about that cabinet during our drive out to the sale. If it was still there, it was meant to be. If it had sold (which I suspected it had) I would be very sad.
We walked through the doors and the crowd had thinned out since my last visit. I made a beeline for the kitchen and you know what? There was my cabinet, price tag still intact, no ‘sold’ sign in sight.
I located the seller and bought the cabinet. The next day when my husband and I picked it up, the seller said there were many people in and out of the sale who were so sad that the cabinet was already sold.
I was quite close to being one of them. Now that cabinet sits in the corner of our kitchen where we desperately needed extra storage. I think it was meant to be. I love it so much that my husband asked if we should throw a “Cabinet Warming Party.”
I think he was making fun of me.
But really, a party is not a bad idea.