Wednesday, November 29, 2017
I went to my first estate sale last weekend with some friends at this house in the North Valley. An old couple died and left no heirs, or maybe their heirs just didn't want all their parent's crap and walked away. It was the saddest thing, the entire life of this husband and wife splayed out in different rooms of their house for strangers to come in and haggle over. Their clothes and books, Frank Sinatra albums, clip-on dime-store earrings, a picked-over set of silverware carefully stored in a box, a picture of the un-named man in his Air Force uniform from some island in the South Pacific during World War II, their vacuum cleaner, 20 bucks. And then, in her bedroom, her wedding dress, made from satin undoubtedly rationed and in short supply during the War, hanging in the window. It was the last day of the sale, so it was marked down, half-off.
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