Happiness In A Bowl

Estate sales satisfy my occassional materialistic/knick knack craving at a very affordable price, and (i'm loath to admit) my morbid curiosity about the lives of other people. Perhaps not highly unusual given our (yes, i said our, i'm a semisecret junkie too) preoccupation with reality shows (or is it more "reality-where-everyone-is-very-attractive-and-have-no-concept-of-consequences show").

Its truly fascinating to venture into a total stranger's house, weave your own story from the clues bared for all to see, take your pick of their earthly possessions and have carte blanche to check out their closets. More often than not, when i do stumble onto an estate sale as we go about our weekend errands, i find the most satisfying part to be silently tracing the homeowner's story..."they must have enjoyed cooking as all the pots and pans are well worn" or "their heating bills must have been outrageous as the windows facing the lake are as flimsy as cardboard". No earth shattering revelations or mad hunt for bargains.

I've made very few purchases considering that estate and garage (higher ratio of junk) sales descend like canadian soldiers (the bugs off of lake erie vs. actual military personnel from neighbors up north) once the snow melts. We've bought some old books, gardening tools, wood carrier for the fireplace, flatware...nothing especially significant except for the last thing i bought. A bowl (pictured above). yup a bowl...or i think its a bowl. It could have been a candy dish but lost its lid at one point. Its amber color made it stand out amongst all the other mismatched plateware and ceramic figurines on a rickety table. It has these evenly spaced bumps on the outside that made the light come through (in my eyes) in an unusual way. And one of the best parts is that it only cost me fifty-cents. Who needs Pier One, Pottery Barn or Crate & Barrel when happiness (or at least delight though fleeting) can be found in a bowl.