I am what I am

21 Jun

And what I am is a Treasure Hunter.  Who knew?!  I really didn’t.  I swear. (or maybe I just never thought about it before)

When I hear the term “Treasure Hunter,” I think of Cari Cucksey of HGTV’s Cash and Cari, or the guys from American Pickers.  However, when you start getting giddy because of a dilapidated old ornate frame you grabbed from someones trash pile in downtown Boston, I guess maybe that could be considered a qualifier to be called a Treasure Hunter. Just maybe.

I can only imagine what used to be displayed in this frame in its hey day (random side note- I was curious about the origin/meaning of that term.  Thanks to the good ol’ interweb, I discovered where it came from).  The story that I’ve created for it is that it housed a custom painted formal family portrait which was passed down the generations and moved to a new frame when this one fell into disrepair.

Anyway, back to reality.  This frame is actually 3 pieces that were once solidly attached together with hand-forged nails.  Each piece looks like a frame on its own and they are no longer solidly bonded (if at all), so that’s how they might find themselves into my house- 3 awesome refurbished antique frames.  They need a lot of love and repair, but how can you beat the price of FREE.  If I can’t save them, the worst that will happen is that they’ll end up in the trash they were originally destined for.

This discovery was on Friday (thanks to a coworkers keen powers of observation).  It occurred to me over the weekend that I may actually be considered a “Treasure Hunter.”  That find last week made my day.  Any normal person wouldn’t get so excited but I guess I’m far from normal in that respect (no comments from the peanut gallery on that one please).  I’m still elated over the vintage wire paper tray I discovered at an estate sale a few weeks ago.  Yup, I’m a special breed of crazy.  I blame it on my parents.

I started tag-sale-ing with them at a young age.  My first memory of going to a tag sale was probably around the age of 6.  I vaguely remember going with my parents and Grandpa and I picked out a small but horrific stuffed animal that was probably a carnival or vending machine prize.  I was SO excited to spend 25 cents on this ‘treasure.’  Flash forward to 21 years later.  My tastes have evolved a bit, but the giddy kid in me is still looking for treasures.

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