Collectors’ pursuits form friendships

The one thing that can make a collector, or packrat, or whatever you want to call us, get rid of our treasures is a move. Especially a long-distance move.

There’s something about having your belongings measured in pounds, thousands of pounds, which makes it easy to let go.

I had an enormous two-day sale and pared down before we moved to Spokane in the summer of 1999. Anything that didn’t have significant sentimental value was sold or given away.

After the move, housekeeping was simplified without all the extra stuff, and I could still pack light if Spokane didn’t turn out to be a good fit for my family.

Fortunately, my husband and children settled into their new worlds quickly, but as a writer working from home, I was still somewhat isolated.

Then something interesting happened when my daughter was invited to play at the home of a new school friend. When I dropped her off I discovered that her friend’s mother was an avid antiquer and collected a lot of interesting old things. The kind of things I used to have. With a shock, I realized that part of the reason I still didn’t feel at home was that my house was still sterile and foreign. I hadn’t put my stamp on it yet.

I began to explore the shops in Hillyard and on Monroe, and then downtown. I scouted out the little junk stores and thrift stores around town, and I went to the flea market and antique shows at the fairgrounds. I stopped at garage sales and estate sales. My house took on my personality and I finally felt at home.

In 1999 Mary Engelbreit, a dedicated collector (she coined the phrase “The Princess of Quite a Lot,”) built a new house and moved out of her spacious and formal turn-of-the-century home in St. Louis. She launched into a new minimalist approach to decorating.

Englebreit, who finds inspiration for her illustrations and line of merchandise in vintage items, felt smothered by the amount of clutter she had accumulated. So she sold or gave away the bulk of her collections. But when she settled into her brand new home she felt lost without the familiar collectibles. Several months later she admitted in a story in her “Mary Engelbreit’s Home Companion” magazine that she had replaced as much as she could, and added more.

For me, the antique sales and junk shops were a way to learn my new city, and a way to spend time doing something I loved. And I honestly missed the stuff.

I’ve noticed that many of the women I meet around town are doing the same thing. New to Spokane, they are finding their way home by engaging in a favorite hobby; treasure hunting. And we all agree that Spokane is rich in good junk.

Share.

Treasure hunting is sometimes a solitary pursuit. But it can also act as a springboard to new friendships when you discover a connection with others who love the same thing.

Groups of garage sale friends get up with the birds on Saturday morning, grab a rib-sticking breakfast and coffee-to-go, and hit the road. Others, who live in outlying areas, drive into town to do a little antiquing and bonding. City dwellers head out of town to comb through barn sales.

If you are part of a group of treasure hunters I’d love to hear from you. Drop me a line or give me a call and tell me about your junking buddies.

A Common Thread

I’m still getting interesting letters and questions regarding your old sewing machines. Last week I printed the letter from Sharon Wood, asking for help locating a manual for her mother-in-law’s Minnesota Model A machine. She wrote again to let me know she found it.

“I just wanted you to know I followed up on the sites you suggested and I now am the proud owner of a CD which tells me all about the Minnesota Model A,” she wrote. Wood plans to use the old sewing machine to make a baby gift this summer. It’s especially nice when we can use an old family treasure to make a new one

Danny Kerwood sent an e-mail asking for help identifying the type of cabinet holding his grandmother’s Minnesota Model A. “It is inside a two-door cabinet, and when you flip open the table, the thing pops out,” he wrote.

Kerwood’s grandmother owns a parlor cabinet. More like a piece of furniture than the ordinary iron treadle base, a parlor cabinet fit well in the family’s “front room”– often the nicest room in the house. I put a photo of such a cabinet online.

And finally, I got a letter from Rene Wolf in Alaska asking for help finding a working treadle machine. Wolf plans to retire in “bush” Alaska and will have to ration her daily use of electricity. “I see you found a beautiful treadle machine in your treasure hunting, and wondered if you might know of another machine available for sale?” She wrote. “Would you mind sharing my interest in a machine in decent condition?”

I liked the fact that she really plans to use her machine so I’m passing this along to all of you. If you have a working treadle machine for sale, let me know and I’ll put you in touch with Rene. She has family in Spokane who can pick up and deliver the machine to her.