Just Junkin'

I love junking. Some call it picking, some call it thrifting, some call it going on a rummage. Me, I like to call it what it is: digging through piles of junk, to find a lonesome treasure to call my own. No matter the weather, no matter how dirty, dusty, or mouse-poop ridden it is, I love to dive right in and see what is hiding in the depths.

Today was a clear and lovely day, with temperatures around 0 degrees. Cold enough to freeze your nose hairs, but pretty with sunshine to tempt you out-of-doors. Perfect weather for trip to the wilds of Weyerhauser for a dig through the barns owned by Gene of Gene's Used Furniture. It is one of those places that you drive past and think, my word, look at that...must be a junkyard. Oh no. You would be sooooo wrong. It is full of junk, which is the treasure for everyman. Or everywoman, in this case.

Note: When junking in winter, remember layers are your friend. I highly recommend cuddleduds or similar long undies. Barns may block the wind, but it is like being in a large, dusty freezer!

Every time I wander through Gene's, I find something needed. Sometimes I go with a plan, like the time I went with a friend a year or so back. She was on a mission to find old silverware to make into jewelry, and I needed a new sewing table for the sewing loft. Both of us found what we needed, at a bargain price. I think she spent $10, and I spent a whopping $20. And then there was the time I took my mom, and came home with a deal on a miniature china cabinet, which lives on the porch and houses my collection of childrens' milk glass tableware. I love that thing, and I know I spent under $150 on it. It perfectly keeps my miniatures safe from maurading cats, and they aren't tucked into a box anymore for "safe-keeping".

This time, I simply needed a day of junkin', sure to soothe the nerves and distract me from too-long-winter-and-too-much-work woes. Boy, did it ever work. Just check out this place!

Can you believe it? Every which way you turn, there is more stuff to dig through. Nothing is priced, officially. I firmly believe that Gene bases his price on how excited you get about whatever it is that you've found. I also know that if you smile reeeeeeaaaaaal pretty and flirt just the teensiest bit, and maybe let him give you a squeeze or an innocent rump pat, you will be walking out of there with the deal of your life. And if you choose dicker with him, be nice about it. You know: that oh-so-casual mix of deference, flirtatiousness, and womanly strength. He likely will win the bargaining match, but hey. It's fun for everyone.

This time, I introduced my friend Gretchen to the wonder that is Gene's. See how mesmerized she is? (Look for the person wearing a white kerchief. It's like a white flag, waving bravely in the midst of lovely junk.) This place grabs you like that. You get the bug, to keep searching and digging and eventually you just know a bargain is going to jump out at you. A pearl amongst the swine. A diamond in the rough. All that, and more.

So this time, I went into the barns and sheds and narrow, tunneling paths lined with boxes and old mattresses with no plan or objective beyond a nice morning wandering and poking about. But in about the third barn, I realized: Huh. I need new kitchen chairs (two of my 100-year-old balloon back chairs have given up the ghost and need replacing), and here is a lovely purple-painted shieldback chair just calling my name. And oh, what's that? This pink sign proclaiming "It's Good To Be The Queen" needs to come back to the farm-ette, too? Well, okay then. $16.80 later, and I am a happy woman tooling back home to the ol' P.F.

I have modified my dream farm plan. I want a place that has been left intact, goodies and all, with stuffed barns and outbuildings. And once the deed is mine (or rather, the mortgage is arranged...), I am calling the American Pickers guys and setting up a head-to-head, no holds barred, Greatest Pickers of The World challenge between Frank & Mikey and Gene & his grandsons. I'll make dinner, and they have until the triangle rings to pick their little manly hearts out. Whoever makes the best score, wins.

Now that's a show I'd pay to see.