I had an interview of sorts the other day, and was asked about my passion for junking. And you know, it's not something I often stop and really think about. It's just the way I grew up.
I can't explain how much I love when someone calls me to tell me about an old barn they'd like to let me to come and dig through or when I roll up to a farm sale. It makes my heart skip a beat. What will I find?
I found this old toy truck at a farm sale a few weeks ago. The place had been picked over but I couldn't help but wonder about what may be sitting in their enormous barn across the field. So I asked if I could take a peek. "There's nothing in there but junk", they said. Well, that sounded perfect to me.
When I enter a barn, I stop at the entrance and do a 360 degree scan. Then I look up, which is something my dad always taught me, because wonderful things are often stored in the rafters.
On this day, while looking along the wallboards, I saw this filthy old toy truck.
I have a thing for these trucks. I think it's because my parents always used them as vessels in our gypsy wagon. They'd use them for holding various things like onions or buttons... basically anything that could hold something was used and old toy trucks were easily found in the landfills my parents would dig through.
Anyway, back to the barn.
When I emerged from the barn, I showed the truck to the owner who said he had been looking for that toy for 50 years! It had been set down one day and he could never remember where he put it. And after he told me about his memories of that truck when he was a child, he told me he'd be happy to sell it.
So now it's mine. This junky old truck that needs to be cleaned up. It may go into my collection, or who knows, maybe I'll sell it someday.
Someday, I'll have to tell you about the shirt I found at a yard sale for .10 cents and later sold for $860. dollars.