A couple of years ago, my sister retired and moved here from Tulsa. Since then she and I have become "Junk Gypsies," "Dumpster Diving Divas," "Yard Sale Ya-Ya's" and "Auction Annies"! We find old, broken stuff, fix it up and sell it. Talk about another addictive hobby!
Re-purposing anything past its prime is not always easy, but the results are sometimes stunning. Since I have been in school the past few years, my sister has been the one to do most of the work. During the summer, we fill up both our garages with "stuff" for her to work on all winter.
Our very first find was, in fact, a dumpster dive. Well not really a dive, more of a drive-by. On our way somewhere, she spied two old rickety chairs beside a dumpster, I did a u-turn, we quickly scoped out the area, decided the chairs were in fact destined for the trash (and no one was looking), snatched them up, threw them in the back of my SUV, and drove sedately away. Well, maybe not sedately; I think my tires squealed just a little bit.
I have learned since this might not be legal, so we try to limit our dumpster-diving activities. But those chairs turned out so cute! We painted them gray and made new covered seats from red and white chevron fabric, and they were good as new. We market our finds in a wonderful little flea market, True Treasures, which is owned by another Gentry girl. It is located just outside of Bentonville on Arkansas Highway 72. You should all check it out. One of the chairs sold, but we still have the other.
Well, that was the incident that got us started, and it's been downhill ever since. My car now turns at garage sale signs on its own, whether I want to pass them by or not. The wheel just magically starts turning and, before you can blink twice, the back is full of great finds (and, sometimes, not so great). We have enough white-elephant gifts to last a lifetime.
But it is just so much fun to take an old broken-down dresser, tighten up its old bones and either add a fresh coat of paint, or just sand the old one off down to the (almost) bare wood. The distressed look is "in" these days so, often, we refrain from repainting. I love both looks.
And sometimes we don't really know what we will do with a certain piece until we get started on it. For instance, we had a small metal patio set that lacked a top. We had it painted Razorback Red and were trying to decide how to finish it. My sister had laid an old window down on it and when she walked back by, it caught her eye and she decided that it made the perfect table top. She added some chicken wire and plexiglass and voila, a cute patio table!
I started a spreadsheet to keep track of all of our purchases and expenses so I could track how much money we were making and decide when we could retire. The good news is, at this rate, we can both retire somewhere around the year 2080 or so. I'm looking forward to it. Or, in other words, we better not quit our day jobs just yet.
But we do see some beautiful country tracking down yard sales because, usually, the best sales are not in town. If you can find an old farmhouse whose owners have cleaned out the attic for the sale, then you might need two vehicles to haul away your finds. Or you could make several trips -- either way works well. We have done both. We have also gotten slightly lost but have always managed to find our way home again before dark -- so far, anyway.
Often the items we fix up are really old and, you know me, I start wondering about their history -- Just who was it that bought them new? Were they well-loved and well-used? How many years have they been waiting for restoration? I hate that we have become a throw-away generation, so I hope that my sister and I, by doing what we do, can open a few eyes to re-purposing.
So, think twice before you toss that old table in the trash. Think about where it came from and which of your ancestors might have used it. We have a small table that Mom used for many, many years as a telephone stand -- this was back when phones were connected to the wall. It had fallen apart, but my sister lovingly put it back together and it now stands in her living room. Every time I see it, I think of Mom. I also think of sitting on the floor next to it and stretching the curly cord as far as it would go so my dad wouldn't listen to me talk to my friends (or boys). But, if you decide that whatever it is, is too far gone and not worth saving, just strategically place it beside your trash can and give me a call!
Until next time, happy mem'ries!
Tamela Weeks is a freelance writer in the Gentry area. She may be reached by email at [email protected]. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 07/20/2016