weekend happenings

one reason that i enjoy living in new jersey is that any given weekend, some place in middlesex county, i can find an estate sale. i was first introduced to estate sales by my incredible grandfather, who could navigate any neighborhood in kansas while following poorly written signs and random arrows directing us to each mother load. estate sales don't happen in california. only garage sales, and those are usually pretty small, with nothing worth writing about. recently, i have been sticking strictly to estate sales, especially when they are advertised with the number of years of accumulation. 

but, there is one thing that bothers me about estate sales. usually, when i am in my glory of rummaging, when i have hit the junk jackpot, someone has to comment on "what a pity" or "how sad" they feel estate sales are. i don't mean to sound insensitive, but i like to think that, perhaps, after 55 years of marriage, some old couple decided they didn't like to be tied down to all of their junk, so they decided to up and fly away to fiji to spend the rest of their days in a beach bungalow, possibly taking their silly tropical shirt collection and other relics one might need while living in paradise.