Live Free: A Porch Sale

May 07, 2012

A Porch Sale

Just a couple of blocks away from our house, sits a dreamy farmhouse. It occupies an entire block. I'm not sure of the acreage that it sits on, but gosh, it must be at least three. We've walked around this place often. We've wondered who it is that occupies this home. Who tends to the gardens? Who listens to the breeze from the wraparound porch? Who knows the different species of birds that nest and swoop through the grounds? Who listens to the evening quiet as the shadows fall through the house, leaving it dark and asleep? How many footsteps danced, pitter-pattered, clunked, trotted, and ran, around corners, down stairs, through entryways, and into someone's mama's kitchen?

It's a beautiful place.

On Saturday morning, we had the opportunity to meet the couple who call this farmhouse home. They are elderly and were having a porch sale to thin out some of their possessions. I have to say, this was about the most thrilling part of my week -- to browse through the exquisite items for sale and to get to know this lovely couple. Byron instantly hit it off with the gentlemen who has a vast collection of vintage political memorabilia. Oh yes, pins, stickers, figurines. Byron gawked and ended up taking home a little stash of his own.

And I could've sat and talked with the lady of the house all day long. She is of Swedish ancestry, loves Scandanavian folk art, and well, you know, she had some incredible treasures to share!

Yes, it was a huge thrifting score! Vintage dala horses, Carl Larsson, vintage table clothes, beautiful hanging plates from Germany, a Red Wing 2 gallon crock, oh another hand painted plate of a winter scene with a tomten (perfect for the holidays), and a Wedgewood Beatrix Potter mug for the little miss.

And of course, we got to talking about children and grandchildren and how fast it all comes and goes and how hard it can be to be to let go, and to be away from family. She longed to be near her grandchildren and her daughter, but her daughter left home when she went away to college and made a life for herself in California.

Oh, us mothers. No matter the stage of motherhood or the generations that divide us, there is something so unspoken and universal about the way in which we love our children. Nothing prepares us for depth of emotions. Nothing prepares us for the lifelong job with the constant duality of nurturing and holding whilst freeing and letting go.

One day, I'm sure, I'll be on a porch somewhere, surely in need of thinning out decades of thrifted goodies. Perhaps, a young family will enter my reality and all at once I'll be taken back to those short, sweet first years of motherhood and wondering when did the time slip away.

Posted at 01:23 PM in mothering, neighborhood, thrifting | Permalink