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.