My mother used to call it “junkin’.” She and a friend used to “go junkin’” on a regular basis and after she died, I inherited some beautiful glassware. Mom knew a good piece of glass and she kept track of what she spent and what it was worth. When my sisters and I had an estate sale for Mom and Dad’s lifetime of accumulation, we first called in an antique dealer who was a friend of my parents and asked him for appraised value of the pieces. We kept the good stuff in the house and the junk in the garage. It was an exhausting yet fun couple of days and we got rid of a lot of things. (We also took home a lot of things).
Mom’s been gone 18 years and Dad 17 and I have a houseful of stuff of my own. But still I was talked into attending an estate sale yesterday with a friend.
I had no idea what I was about to encounter.
Our little estate sale didn’t hold a candle to the one I attended. 1120 Winona (over by the Champlin mansion if you’re from Enid) was a huge, fabulous old house built in the early 1900s and I was only allowed in the downstairs area. There were rare books (some in Greek and Russian), handmade rugs, glassware from the ages, and art from around the world.
The owner of the home was from Russia but had lived in California, Oklahoma, and exotic places around the world. Her daughter lived with her for a time and was the US Ambassador to Tunisia. Her mother accompanied her on that tour. The mother outlived the daughter and stayed in her house in Enid until she died at the age of 103. As world travelers, they had filled every nook and cranny with treasures.
The basement was finished with hardwood floors and a fireplace. The upstairs had beautiful oak floors and woodwork and a butler’s pantry where the glassware was stored. There was a downstairs bedroom with a fireplace and a sunroom next door, and the garage had the old-style steam heat radiator up against the wall. There were fireplaces on all floors that I could get to on both ends of the house. And the most intriguing thing were the bright turquoise walls. The lady from the estate sale said that was the Russian influence. I’m sure if the house was mine, the turquoise would have to go.
I spent $21 and both things I bought were for someone else. I’m cheap and kept asking myself where I’d put that thing I was holding in my hand once I got it home. I wanted a glass sangria pitcher, but my china cabinet is full now. So, I left it for someone else.
I hope the home goes on the market and I can tour it when they have an open house. All proceeds were going to a couple of charities. Those charities were about to receive some huge checks.
Someday my children will need to clean out my lifetime of treasures. I doubt my estate sale will be as glamorous as the one I attended yesterday.
Sandhill Island is a magical place. The lives of the people on the island are linked to the sea and her bounty. Meg grows a garden in a salty environment, Alex paints the ocean with Meg’s produce for medium, Paul fishes for shrimp, Sam cooks for his neighbors and tourists, and Billie sings the blues.
I’ve been a mother for a long time and I may slowly be getting the hang of it. I married young and had my first child much too early, but we persevered (That’s me in in the middle with the blooming belly). Because as a parent, what else can you do? The child is dependent on you. And you will find you are also dependent on the child. The bond between mother and child never ends. I can’t imagine the pain of losing one, but I’m lucky to have never had to face that obstacle. 
I had two children, one girl and one boy, and then decided I’d filled the house up and it was time to quit. They were the best thing I ever did with my life and somedays I wondered why. If you’ve raised teenagers, that sentence needs no explanation. 
Today my kids are middle-aged which makes me old, but we are still a family. Last night my grandson graduated from high school and heads to college in the fall. I remember this stage in life when my kids were that age. A child in college, one in high school and my parents retired and left town six months out of the year. “Here’s the key, look after our house and pay the bills from this checkbook. We’ll call later.” I had lots to do with a job, teenagers and aging parents. But I would do nothing different. It was life. It was family. And it was what I wanted to do.
Years ago, I had an imagination flash and wrote a post-apocalyptic short story called Bra Wars. A publisher who is no longer in business liked it and wanted 4 or 5 more stories in the world I created to e-publish. I wrote them. Eventually the short stories turned into a book titled The Apocalypse Sucks, a snarky take on civilization after a virus decimates most of humanity. I mean if you can’t make fun of the end of the world, what can you make fun of? Eventually that book found itself in the hands of the uber-talented Airship 27 Productions and with the help of Andy Fish 
I’m not a gambler. My version of gambling is – do I have to shave my legs today? What are the odds of my pant leg hiking up, so anyone will notice. So, with that mindset, I went to the casinos this weekend.
Victim mentality
I’m clearing my life of unwanted clutter and offering up new and inventive ideas this year.
My mother died of cancer 18 years ago, one day before seeing her great grandson born. She tried desperately tried to hang on to see that little bundle of joy, but nature had other ideas. The next day I became a grandmother. I couldn’t attend the birth because I needed to help my dad, who had Alzheimer’s and heart disease, plan a funeral. That morning I put my husband’s pickup in a ditch when I hit the only patch of ice in the whole town. They say things come in threes.
I had a great time at the Meet the Artists! event at A New Chapter Bookstore and Café yesterday. Music by Chloe-Beth, coffee and tea from the bookstore and even cookies! From 4-6 the public shuffled in and out and were entertained by the music of Chloe-Beth (much of it original). Families came and brought the kids. The relaxed atmosphere brought music and literature together in a cozy environment. Friends bought books and drank coffee and tea and enjoyed the early spring afternoon. 
Enid has a lot to do for a small town and plenty to get involved in; some for pleasure others for need. The Garfield County Court Appointed Special Advocates for Children (CASA) hold an event each year on the Courthouse square. The wooden children in the picture represent the 246 cases of abused or neglected children in Garfield County reported to authorities each year. Many are never reported. The numbers incline or decline depending up on the year, but Enid is not a metropolitan city and Garfield County is not an especially large county. I think that number is much too high, but CASA is working hard to reduce it. My husband and I adopt one of these wooden children each year and dress it, take it to the Courthouse lawn with all the others and hope that the money collected will be enough to help with this worthwhile project. 
I recently met an incredible talent right here in my own hometown. Chloe Beth Campbell (stage name Chloe-Beth) has a voice like an angel. She writes and performs her own music and released her first CD on her 18th birthday titled Remnant. She has gigs all over town – and some out of town – and I am sure she will go far in her singing career.
Peggy Chambers "Views from the Hammock" site 