Antiquing

On a rainy vacation day in Vermont, it seemed appropriate to find shelter in a local antique dealer's home. We were hailed in off the road by a big flag that read "OPEN" and another "Antiques." The blue house was complete with a barn to each side, an old moldy tent, and two floors, all overflowing with furniture pieces and knick-knacks. The driveway was lined with rusty chairs and sculptures, all of which had seen many more rainy days in Vermont than I. An assortment of bells clinked as we entered the house, and I found myself gripping a tennis ball when I turned to close the door behind me.

We started tentatively toward the living room to our left and were greeted by a long-haired man in earth tones and working boots.

"Ever been here before?" he asked us.

"Nope, first timers," I replied.

"Ah, okay. Welp, we got all the stuff you see out here, we got stuff in the barn out back and the shed, we got stuff out there under the tent... Oh, sometimes you might find stuff inside things," he added, opening a china cabinet to reveal its hodge podge contents. "You can dig around and find some great stuff. You lookin' for anything particular?"

"Not really. Just lookin'."

"Okay. Well, don't be afraid to holler at us if you have questions. And don't be afraid to dig." He started out of the room but immediately returned to add, "Everything's on sale, too, so if ya want somethin', tell us."

"Great! Thanks so much!"

Once we were left with the goods themselves, I tried my best to focus on one thing at a time. There were three rubber stamps, a toy typewriter, rusted wrenches and screws, a row of leather jackets, and beautiful, smoky silverware. Each room was arranged by theme, which was appropriate because it was a house, so living room stuff was in the living room, games in the den, etc. Upstairs, we found the master bedroom. In the center was a bed frame, with a lovely headboard and floral sheets hanging over the top. There were chests of drawers and a desk with vanity mirror. Clothes were hanging in the closet. A dusty white nighty hung next to a long purple coat, with shoes underneath to match. It was like going through my grandparents' attic, but while that gave me information about people I knew and loved, this gave me clues to a strange, open-ended mystery. I felt like I was supposed to be a vulture - to want to see everything and find the buried treasure, but I couldn't shake the history of these private items. Where did the lady wear her white purse with the gold chain? What color lipstick did she keep inside?

After a little while, a petite woman came upstairs. She was a sweet person with a salt-and-pepper mane and a weathered face.

"How are you doing up here?" she asked.

"Great!" I replied.

"Where ya from?"

"Boston. Well, we live in Somerville."

"Oh really? I lived in Somerville for years! That was when I was with my first husband; yeah, this is my second marriage," she looked up to signify some explanation. "But I loved Somerville. It's convenient, close to Cambridge, but it's quieter, like a neighborhood. When we moved out here, it was one of those life-changing things, you know?" I nodded. "So are you guys finding anything?" she asked.

"Not yet. There's just so much!"

"Yeah. Well, it's only your first visit. Let us know if you like anything, because prices are tweakable."

I told her that I liked one of the trunks, but didn't think I could fit it in my car.

"Well, we have loads of them if you want something smaller. Did you check out back?"

"No, we've only been in here so far."

"Oh, well, look under the tent and check in the barn. There's a flashlight out there on your way in."

"Okay," I said.

"And we may have more if you come back, too. You know, this business is always changing. It used to be people were buying up all the linens. You'd get a bunch in and then people would dig through them and want to get there hands on them all, but now nobody wants them anymore. So you gotta pick and choose when you're on a pick up," she laughed. "You have to try to find the right things. But we've got lots of trunks in and out of here."

"Okay, well, we'll check out there and see what we find."

We thanked her and headed out to the barn. The rain had seeped through and damaged a lot of the pieces - bed frames had turned orange and blankets brown. By the time the man came back out to show me all the trunks under the tent, the rain had let up a little bit, and we were ready to hit the road again. But he worked hard to make the sale. He had to sell while he had us. That was the nature of his business. But we were just looking.