The Machinist.

So I guess this is how I work- I bombard this template with a handful of my days- when I have the time or the gumption. And here we are- one of those moments is upon us…..

We went to an estate sale on saturday morning.

I love garage sales and estate sales- there is always something to find, it’s a mini adventure every week. People’s stuff is inevitably attached to their lives- and especially in the case of estate sales there’s always a naggingly uncomfortable reminder that this person was here- with their lives and their families and their things

and now

they are not.

And you so rudely happen upon their underwear drawer, and it just so happens its all for sale.

Shrug. Sigh. Weird.

Now, not to reduce a person’s life to what they’ve accumulated or to assume that i might know them because I have seen their bathroom- but there IS such a story waiting to be unfurled walking amongst a stranger’s physical remnants. It is hallowed ground- really.


This pencil had outlived it’s owner….

The estate sale was at the shop of a machinist- a tool and dye guy (huge machines and sharp pieces of metal strewn all over the floor- industrial foot stools and parts- lots of bits).


The Machine.


Somebody thinks they’re reeeeeaaaalllllly funny.



One response to “The Machinist.

  1. Your blog caught my eye, I am a machinist/tool & die guy. You perspective of the estate makes me wonder what people will think, when they rumge through my lifes work.

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