The final flea of summer - small town New York style

For the last three months I've been on a break from the House of Goodwill project; a welcome respite from more than a year of sanding, painting, cleaning and shopping.

My family and I spent a couple of months in New York, where I thought I'd have all kinds of free time for exploring and posting.  It didn't exactly work that way - it probably never really does, really - but the summer was so busy even I was surprised at how little time I spent on this blog.

It was great, though!  It felt like a summer that made up for lost time...our last two summers were spent working on the House of Goodwill, taking care of foster kids and barely leaving home, because of all the Covid shutdowns everywhere and foster responsibilities.

So to be busy and free (more or less) felt amazing.  None of us took it for granted.

Anyway, while I was in New York, I had to check out my favorite flea markets and antique stores.  There were three in town, but only one was open.  Two of them had signs posted on the door that they were open "by appointment only" (due to Covid).  This was a downer.

I never called, because if I scheduled an appointment and someone came to the store just for me, and then I walked around for an hour and didn't buy anything, I would have felt bad about it.  (I know I shouldn't, but I also know I would.)  So I just missed out.  (Or they did.)

Until (UNTIL!), my last day out in town, I passed by one of the places, and just happened to see the front door open and a car parked outside.  So I jumped out and asked if the store was open, and I was told yes.  YES!

Two Covid-masked men were leaving as I entered, and I was the only person inside, so I guess I was doing what I hadn't wanted to do.  But at least the owner hadn't come out just for me.

This place - antique store? building of old stuff? - is hard to describe, and it's a real trip.  It's called "The Seneca Warehouse" and is loaded (LOADED!) with "stuff:" some cool antiques, some things that appear to be yard sale or estate sale leftovers, vintage items and lots and lots of random objects.

The place is an old building which appears to be barely maintained enough to load up with stuff.  It's kind of like Goodwill - everything is dusty and things are piled on top of things on top of things.  I met the old guy who owns it a couple of years ago, and he's an interesting character.

It's one of those places where the ratio of "stuff" to cool antiques is probably 50:1, but that's usually the fun of places like this.  It's like digging through Grandma's really enormous old attic, and occasionally unearthing something really interesting.

This place sort of feels like the really old house of a hoarder, where you have to uncover little walking paths through all the stuff...though at least it's not garbage, so that's a plus.

It's kind of frustrating being in here, because so much stuff is blocking so much stuff that is impossible to get to, that you get the feeling you only see about 1/100 of what's actually inside.

I must have walked through at least ten waist-tall spider webs on the "paths" through this dark back room.  I just noticed the street sign - didn't see it when I was there!  

(Where in the world did he get that?!)

I was excited to revisit this place because of a few gems I discovered there in the past.  (Like a perfect condition "Masterpiece" game from the 1970's for $2.  Something we loved playing in our house growing up.)

Remembering this, I inquired about a couple of items I saw, only to be shocked at the price I was quoted.  There were two metal lawn chairs with some decent looking (used) cushions on them.  How much?  "$500," I was told.  $500!  What?  (Mind you, these were not vintage or hard to find like what I would expect for that amount.  These were just ordinary, decent metal lawn chairs.)

After another similar inquiry I stopped asking.  I never did figure out how this guy was pricing things.  (Keep in mind this is not a store in a well-to-do city.)  Apparently inflation is affecting flea markets too!

Wandering through the dust and cobwebs, I did see some interesting things, as always:

My first time seeing a Virgin Mary planter.

There's something charming about her.

I've seen lots of planters, but never any saints; this is a highly Catholic town so not a big surprise.

How about a brass armadillo?

Again, I've seen all kinds of brass animals, but this was a first.

I just thought this was really cool!  

I've seen this milk glass jar in a million people's houses (my mom probably has it), but I've never seen one unused in it's original box!

(Someone received an extra as a wedding gift, and stuck it in the attic?) 

This embroidery was just so pretty, and in perfect condition.

Someone worked very hard on this!

Wouldn't this be cute in a little girl's room?

The owner wanted $50, which it is totally worth, I just didn't really need it.

I sure did love it, though!

When I arrived at the store, I had told the owner I was happy to catch him there.  "I have another store now," he informed me.  "In Hannibal.  It's bigger.  I'm hardly here anymore."

Oh.  In the village of Hannibal?  Bigger?  More stuff?  I can only imagine that place.

"Besides," he said tersely.  "No one buys stuff in stores anymore.  Everything is online.  Ebay.  You know."

"I see," I agreed, though I couldn't help but wonder why he opened another store if "everything is online."  I also resisted pointing out that it's probably challenging to sell things when your store is open by appointment only, full of spiderwebs, way overcrowded and puzzlingly overpriced.

So I walked around for an hour and didn't buy anything after all.

But at least I didn't feel guilty about it!