SOLD!

This makes me so happy! My friend Karen will now rule her world (maybe I should say "shepherd" her world) from Daddy's desk. First she is going to refinish it and master the secret drawer lock. The trunk went to Karen's house, too. She'll do something very cool with it and make me want it back.

Before the desk could go to Karen's house, it had to be cleaned out. I took a photo of some of the contents. Can you find the "round TUIT?" the picture of some unnamed babe?

How I wish I had asked Daddy about his fascination with coins encased in acrylic polymer - the penny cube is but one of a rather impressive collection of unspendable coinage. And of course - the starter revolver. I have one in my desk, don't you? This is the legacy of an unfailingly practical, ingenious and curious man.

New home-owner Elizabeth got the Whit-Ash (see how those words just stick on my tongue - aack) sofa. It is eventually going to her finished basement as the "extra" sofa. That is a fantastic use for it. For now it is keeping Elizabeth from sitting on the floor or from standing up all the time. Redemption for the Whit-Ash Sofa!

Bargain hunters, you'd be surprised to know the deep discounts these savvy shoppers received. "OBO" means "Or Best Offer" you know. The recliner and the antique Chippendale sofa are still on the market (although the Chippendale sofa is the only thing between my family and the floor at the moment.) The little handmade desk is still up for grabs, too.

Thanks for reading!

The Steamer Trunk is SOLD! Handmade Desk still Available

Love these things! I imagine long voyages, and everything you own packed in the trunk. The top compartment holds your dressing table set (brush, mirror, comb, dusting powder) and perhaps some important documents. Another, lower tray holds your "delicates". Packed below, enough clothes, books, quilts, and keepsakes for a semester away at school, or a brand new life just away. Nostalgia for sale - $100 OBO

When Daddy and K.D. Brown handcrafted this desk more than 50 years ago, the air was probably blue with cigarette smoke and profanity. KD used colorful language - but he sweetly called his wife Roberta, "Mother." (I've since read that calling one's wife "Mother" can be a real intimacy killer.)

My mom painted the desk China Red and applied brass Chippendale handles. KD and Daddy put little fretwork in the corners at the legs to further the chinese chippendale theme. This was her desk where she ruled the universe, made lesson plans, made menus and schedules and shopping lists. For the longest time there was a bottle of India Ink in the middle drawer - how mysterious.

It has been repainted and repurposed as my wrapping paper desk. I will miss having a wrapping paper desk and will probably not give as many presents without it. The top of the desk lifts up on either side - revealing a deep well that is perfect for gift bags and tissue paper. Or for holding a huge arrangement of dried hydrangea. Or for stowing picnic items on a summer porch. Or you could just leave the tops down and rule the universe. $200 OBO

The Whit-Ash Sofa

As much as I love to say "Barcalounger", I detest saying Whit-Ash. Whit-Ash loosely translated means "My mother is turning over in her grave knowing that I did not do my homework and purchase the best quality sofa I could afford." I fell for the first pretty face I saw (loved the fabric) and it was August and I was hot and I grew tired of shopping for the darn thing. My mom would've shopped it from here to Georgia and for months until she found the best piece of furniture her kindergarten teacher salary would allow. AARGH. While I am out shopping for another sofa, (I like to say Marty Rae's by the way. That's cute.) you can snatch this one up for a song. $200 OBO.

Daddy's Desk - This Item Is SOLD!

We can not build an addition to our house to give Daddy's desk a home. Something about our ground won't perk for another septic tank. I didn't say I wanted a septic tank, but somehow that has a great deal of bearing on adding a room for this desk. That's how precious things become
estate sale items - not perking.
I'll take the stuff out of the dove-tail joined drawers when it's sold. This is vintage office furniture - 5 drawers and one deep drawer for files. One of those slide out tables that once held a typewriter. My dad controlled the universe from here. He'd answer the AA hotline "AA this is John..." from here. A great desk.

They Put the "Barca" in "Barcalounger"

I love this chair. The first chair I ever purchased at retail (the only one, actually!) It's a BARCALOUNGER for Pete's Sake! (Love to say and write Barcalounger...). It has to leave our house because two Christmases ago someone gave my husband a big, gorgeous, leather recliner as a Christmas present. It was a generous gesture of love and respect - but this house isn't big enough for two recliners. Barc's gotta go...

Vintage Chippendale

First time I laid eyes on this solid beauty, it was covered in brown and white diamond patterned woven upholstery. Instead of welting on the arms, it had nailhead trim. A substantial piece of furniture that was surprisingly comfortable for napping, drawing, snacking, and visiting with its owner, my Nanny Arnelle.

I inherited it in the 80's and had it clad in ivory striped "satin" -ok, shiny faux satin. It is pictured now in it's third incarnation - a gorgeous muted plaid. At my sister's insistence, I had a solid seat cushion made for it - uber comfortable and tidy-looking. And yes, it sports the ball and claw - de rigeur for chippendale.

My Little Estate Sale

For years I've loved to rummage through other people's things. "How could they let this (insert name of incredible stuff here) go?" I would ask. Now, I know. Parents pass away, houses get smaller, children are too young or they turn up their noses at what you can't bear to part with. You can't keep it all - no matter how much you love it.

My parting with stuff, may be your gain. I am selling some of the stuff I've acquired over the last few months. Contact me if anything interests you. Sales prices are negotiable, of course.

Ann

asimpsonmiller@gmail.com