Every time I go to an estate sale, it saddens me a little.
The one that ted and I went to yesterday was particularly
pitiful. For one thing, it had a bad smell no one could
identify. I thought the architect that had owned the house
probably died there and been left for a time. The house,
once grand, was in a state of terrible disrepair. There
was dust an inch thick on everything. They had some lovely
oriental things, a wall of books, art supplies and other
interesting objects.

Ted found a rareity. A heavy made in America socket set and
I bought an amber depression glass bowl and a set of new
king size sheets.

One room was a woman's dressing room and it had one wall of
shoes and 3 walls of clothing. The wall of shoes had niches
for them and it was absolutely full. I don't think any
thing had ever been thrown away.

The house spoke to me of elderly poverty and death. Someone
was too ill to keep it clean and too poor or too stubborn
to hire it cleaned. The house was like a once proud lady
gone to seed. I am wondering if the hiers will tear it
down or fix it up. We talked to a man whose children had
bought a house in the historic district and he said it was
a money pit, although a beautiful one.

Houses really are a passion with me, and especially the
old ones. That is why I keep going to these sales. Some of
the architecture is astounding in the old part of Oklahoma
City.