Several weeks ago, actually the week after the amazing clothing sale in Cheyenne, we hit up another sale at a local farm. The place was in Timnath, CO, which is a tiny town on the outskirts of our home town. The sign on the place read as follows:
Colorado Centennial Farm, in the same family for more than 100 years. Well, we know they owned the farm for that long and never threw anything out! It took us well over an hour just to look at everything. Part of that may have been because of the gigantic number of people who attended the sale. We were able to sign up on a list at 7 am, and we were in the 40s. By the time the sale started at 9 o’clock, they were well into the 100s. Glad there wasn’t anything there we were definitely pining to have, as they swarmed like locusts! We were not able to take a whole lot of photos, but we did find some fun stuff to share.
The outbuildings were loaded with machinery, old bits of furniture, etc. This might have been our favorite, though:
Part of the reason we didn’t purchase a whole lot was the fantasy world the estate sale company was living in. They thought that the fancy screen door in front was worth $300.
It’s a cool door, and I could see someone wanting it for their garden, or even fix it up and use it again (there is something very satisfying about one of these old wooden doors slamming shut as you run out the door to play, I remember it well!) but for that price it would be a strong pass. It was still there on the last day of three, when things were half price, and I think it was there at the end of the day, too. Sometimes I just think they want it all for themselves, and we are a bit suspicious, as they have admitted to opening a store in Denver. Not FAIR.
We loved the “modern” stove:
Just think how tickled the lady of the house was to get this, and yet it had to make way for the new one in its time, but again, it only made it to the barn. There were tractor seats, horse collars, lumber, tools, farm implements of all sorts, and more in over five outbuildings. We poked around for a while, but for us the goodies are always in the house.
There were some fun toys. This adorable kitchen was all made of cardboard:
It was in remarkable shape for something that age made of something so ephemeral. The kids seemed to have taken very good care of their toys. I suppose that would be normal on a farm, as there would never have been much extra money for play things, so you took care of what you had.
There was a sewing room full of fabric and patterns, and speaking with one of the kids (I call her that, but she was probably in her 60s!), she said that her mom was quite the seamstress, and from the examples we saw, we believed her. That being said, you know why this was included in the toys:
I would be willing to bet Mom made this cutie:
It’s a clothespin bag. You stuck a regular old wire or wood hanger in the collar and filled the bag that was hidden under the dress with the pegs. I did succumb to this, and it was beautifully made, of obviously used fabric, so I have my suspicion that it was made during the war, when every scrap of fabric was precious.
We also thought this was fun:
What an adorable little suitcase to go off to visit Grandma. We were hoping it was stuffed with doll clothes, but alas, no luck. I can’t imagine that it never served that purpose, but it wasn’t when we found it.
The toy room had a whole table covered in bags of vintage linens, but with tablecloths for $30 and $40, hankies for $5, and even aprons at $10, we took a quick look and moved on. Neither of us needs even one thread more in our linen collection, not that we don’t look, but it is easy to say no at those prices.
Lest you think it was all good, we have some oddballs, too. The house seemed to have stopped gathering new stuff around 1970. Pole lamps, anyone?
To be truthful, as far as this sort of thing goes, they are better than a whole lot of these. I don’t know what else to say—either you love ’em, or you hate ’em. I could never bring them home, as hubby would banish me, and the lights, to far spider-infested regions of the garage if I even dared to think about it.
These fall in the same category:
These crack me up every time I see them, and we see them often, usually still in the box! I think it is because you put them on your glass, the glass proceeded to sweat, and then you just had a wet soggy coaster you carried around with you. Honestly, I think they were made by a company that took all their sock seconds, cut them off, hemmed them, and passed them off as delightful cocktail bar-ware.
For this last photo, I am OK with the table made of a sewing machine base. If the machine is shot, and they do get that way, it’s a perfectly reasonable reuse. The two cars on top are probably decanters, music boxes, or both. My dad had one of those; it played “How Dry I Am” when you picked up the decanter. It’s goofy but in a kitschy sort of way. The thing that has us really stumped in the photo is the white whatchamacallit near the bottom:
It was sort of the right height for a footstool, but not real comfy for those tired tootsies. It was open on both ends, so although you could stuff a magazine in there, it would not be real practical for more than a couple of them. The tag on it was no use whatsoever, as it wasn’t sure, either. Any thoughts on what it is, or what it was in a previous life, are welcome. Feel free to make the ideas as crazy as possible; I think that this sturdy piece of metal can take it.
The estate sales have slowed down a bit, thank goodness, as our bank accounts couldn’t take us shopping much more like that, and we need time to get the excess into our Etsy shops, so don’t forget to look and see what we have. But, never fear, just because we are out of estate sales, doesn’t mean we are out of photos, so come back next week for another heapin’ helping.