My Bid

Dear Friends,
Here are a few facts:

  1. My husband loves farm sales and goes with his best friend fairly often.
  2. My grandpa was an auctioneer.
  3. Until recently, I had never been to a farm sale.

 The scandal!

This is a story about my first time.

On most occasions, I have kissed my hubby goodbye, reluctantly handed him the check-book, warned him to be careful and then, for insurance that he wouldn’t stay too long, sent our four-year old son along. I wondered, in passing, what was the drawing power of these sales. I mean, we don’t even have a farm! Nothing pleased me more than to scrapbook with his best friend’s wife while our husbands and two little boys were off having ‘guy-time’. But -- you knew there would be a but, didn’t you?

Well, a month or so ago, our dear friends decided that they wanted to go to a farm sale as a family and invited us along. Between the two families we have seven children 7 and under. It seemed adventurous and exciting… like running into a dark cavernous cave full of vampire bats in a bikini.

No, really, I was raring to go! Tractors and farm implements get my blood pumping, farm-girl that I am and all. [cough-cough]

The sarcasm’s getting too thick in here.

Despite my smallish heap of misgivings, I couldn’t stay skeptical very long.


 Just seeing the kids getting so wound up about being ‘out with daddy’ made me more accepting. Besides, at least my curiosity would be satisfied about these things.

 We took the dog, diapers, water, juice, crackers, pacifiers, strollers, changes of clothes, hats, sunscreen, bug-spray, nursing-covers, leash and harness, baby toys, books, a baby doll, purses and my camera. We were prepared for ANYTHING. I think the people at the sale probably thought we were there to open a ‘parenting-supply’ outlet or else we were roving gypsies moving in for the long haul.

On second thought, I don’t think gypsies bothered with nursing covers.

Disclaimer: Due to certain remarks lately I am here to tell you that this is not a posterior post. I am not here to advertise my husband’s back-side.



I couldn’t help it. I follow where he leads, taking pictures all the way and always, always enjoying the view.

Well folks, there was this itty-bitty, teeny-tiny thing that my husband somehow inadvertently, accidentally forgot to mention about farm sales…

Yes, there is lots of tools, tractors, farming equipment, etcetera.

But there is also antiques. Beautiful, primitive, delightful, just my style antiques.

Boy, is he in trouble now.

He was lucky to get out of there with his shirt.

We’ll see who drags whom to the next farm sale.


Old Enough To Be Vintage in NE


  1. I miss going to sales. They are wonderful. Many treasures to be found. So you are leaving me hanging - did you get that wonderful chest of drawers??

  2. the only thing better than tagging along with your hubby is tagging along behind him :)

    8 years later i'm still loving the view :)

  3. It's in the blood! (Auctions-antiques)
    It didn't take me long to learn to bid either--it took too long to convince my husband to bid on something for me, so I figured if I wanted it I'd better make sure it got bid on!

  4. I've never been to a farm sale,from the looks of things I need to change that. I love antiques! Hmmmmm.....I'm going to look into this.

  5. dear daughter of 25 years,

    When a vehicle is 25 years old they say it is an 'antique', but i don't think YOU actually qualify. You have been completely surrounded by "old~stuff" all your life though, as i was collecting it long before that and long before it was "in~vogue" as they say. Back in my teens and early married years people would say "don't throw it away, give it to her, she likes old things"!
    So, you see....it seems to be inherited alright.

    even the smell of aged things (except wine and some cheeses)


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