Antique Hunting: Humorous Tales of the Road

Hubby and I are planning another ‘road trip’ to purchase more antiques and collectibles. We have not mapped anything out yet, it’s still in the discussion stage, but I have been giving some thought to past trips and experiences. Some have been grueling, spending too much time on the road and with little to show for it. Others have been a lot of fun, meeting new people, and discovering new ‘favorites’ to shop at and return to again and again.

But the treks that have been the most fun, most memorable, (not necessarily the most ‘rewarding’) were those taken with my dear sister Vicki and her husband, Dan. Vicki passed away over 10 years ago but is often in my thoughts and she visits me quite often in my dreams. She is always welcome.

They lived the last eleven years of her life in central Wisconsin and we’d often take trips to visit them, or meet half-way. Often it was at an auction or flea market or an estate sale. We’d meet early for breakfast and then head over to the ‘event’ talking the whole time, laughing and catching up on family and friends. But once we began the ‘hunt’, we rarely talked or even acknowledged each others’ presence. You could tell we were really into it.

She called one Thursday evening to say she had just heard about an auction on Saturday and wondered if we were free to join them. She had learned about it from a neighbor who said the gent who passed on had a lot of neat items, and several beautiful stained glass windows.

We’d been looking for one to put in our kitchen and when she mentioned that, we said we’d head up to meet them. We got to the auction about 8:00 AM for viewing, and it started at 10:00. I saw the perfect window but did not mention it to my husband (it was a large auction and we split the previewing into two parts.) Well, the item of my desire went up about noon. A few people started bidding, but I held off (very hard for me to do since my paddle hand always itches.)

The bidding slowed to two folks and I could tell that one was fudging, not sure if they wanted to go any higher. When that happened, I jumped in. “New Bidder” the auctioneer stated, and it was soon down to two of us. Hubby was standing a few yards away, talking with our brother-in-law. He motioned to me to bow out, but I persevered. He then came over to me, and gave me ‘the look’, and finally a nudge! But I would not stop … I really wanted this window. Finally, the other bidder dropped out and I was victorious! It was even less money than I had anticipated.

My sister and I hugged and jumped up and down. When the excitement ebbed, hubby came up to me and asked “how are you gonna get that home?” I stared at him and responded “well, in the trunk of the car I guess.” Both he and Dan started to laugh. There has always been some joking about how women underestimate sizes, but they were serious. Turns out the window measured over 8 feet across.

It was actually a bay window with four panels with “torches” and each panel was almost 2 feet wide! A slight over-sight on my part. All sorts of suggestions came up, including the fact that I could go over to the 2^nd bidder with an offer. Finally, we decided to wrap it into 6 blankets from my sister’s house, tie it to the luggage carrier on the back of the car, and go home on the back roads. A drive that usually would take 3-3-1/2 hours took over 5-1/2 hours.

The bottom line is that it worked very well in our kitchen. Hubby put lighting behind it and it was very striking. When we sold our house 5 years later, the buyers were just thrilled. They enjoyed the story too.

Another time we met them for an auction near Green Bay. We were redecorating our family room and needed a few items. We found a lot of things! Nice prices, too good to pass up. Our small van was filled from floor to ceiling! We crowded in a lot of boxes, a few tables, chairs, pictures and an old sewing machine cabinet we wanted as an end table, etc. We took great care in packing things and arranging so that nothing was crushed or broken. We just squeezed everything in.

Hubby and Dan went to get a drink and Vicki and I remained behind. Just then we noticed that they were opening another shed and it was jam-packed. Drat, we had not seen that. Vicki and I thought we’d take a peek and noticed a lot of great items. One was a large farm scale, the kind with the stand and weights that range from 10 pound to 100 pounds. These sell for $120-200 in the antique malls.

The auctioneer asked who’d start the bidding at $75, dropped to $50, $25, $10, then anyone��$1.00? I could not help myself, the paddle popped up and he yelled “sold!” I just stared at him … what had I done and how would I tell hubby? But I did not need to, he was right behind me. He agreed it was a super price, but where would we put it? (I am sure that he had a suggestion as to where it could fit, but I cannot put that in this blog.) Well, we proceeded to unload the van, laying boxes, and furniture by the side of the road. We got it in after a lot of maneuvering. Barely room for me to sit in the front seat. He reminded me of the Chevy Chase “Vacation” movie with Imogene Coca resting in a lawn chair on the roof of the van. Luckily, that did not take place!

Probably the funniest “story of the road” was of a meeting that was supposed to be with my sister but did not take place. She called us Friday afternoon to say there was an estate sale ‘to die for’ (forgive the pun), early the next morning. It was winter, roads are always iffy in Wisconsin in February, but we said we’d try. It meant leaving the house at 6:00 in the morning but we set the alarm for 5:00 and were poised to take off. It was especially difficult because we had to work Friday night to prepare for a family birthday party at our house on Sunday, knowing we would not get back in time to do it on Saturday. The alarm went off, we jumped into ‘yesterday’s clothing’, grabbed a cup of coffee and flew out the door. We got about an hour from the sale and the roads turned nasty. Sleet, blowing winds, just too risky to continue on.

We stopped at a coffee shop to call her to say we were heading back home. It was pretty busy at the diner, about 15 ‘locals’, plus a cook and several waitresses. The phone booth was right near the counter and as I made the call, I turned for a bit of privacy. I felt something fall from out of the leg of my pants. What was that?

One of the men at the counter recognized it at once! It was a pair of my underpants! In my haste to get dressed in the morning, I had not noticed yesterday’s pants were left in the leg of my jeans. I turned beet red and swooped them up … then heard more laughter. My sister asked what was happening and I had to tell her. She started to laugh and then so did I and the place was just shaking with people laughing. I did my best to refrain from any eye-contact. I am sure there are a group of folks in this little town who still remember this ‘incident’ … I know my sister never let me forget it.

So, not all the ’stories of the road’ are successful, nor rewarding, but they do make for good conversation when you meet with friends who think antique hunting is so darn glamorous!