Field Notes: Garage Sale and Auction Haul — October 29, 2026
An unexpected garage sale and auction haul, a basement full of vintage treasures, and two Bakelite bunnies that apparently started a collection.
I've spent the past couple of weeks surrounded by Christmas. Pricing vintage Christmas inventory. Making Christmas decorations out of things that were never intended to be Christmas decorations. Preparing my antique booths for the holidays. Christmas trees. Christmas ornaments. Christmas projects. I am a little sick of Christmas already. Which is unfortunate, considering it's not even Halloween.
So when I saw an auction on my calendar for Thursday, I was ready for a change of scenery. A few hours digging through old junk sounded like exactly what I needed. And I wasn't about to let a little rain stop me.
Forty-Nine Degrees and a Questionable Amount of Optimism
We've been blessed with some absolutely gorgeous fall weather here in northern Indiana. For the past couple of weeks, temperatures have been in the upper 60s and low 70s, with beautiful sunny skies. The kind of weather that makes you forget winter is lurking around the corner. Naturally, the forecast for Thursday included rain. Of course it did. I got up early, dressed in layers because it was 49 degrees, and headed out.
First stop was Dutch Lady Antiques at Coppes Commons in Nappanee, where I needed to restock my booth (with Christmas stuff) as soon as they opened. Then I was heading to South Bend for a 1 p.m. auction. I wanted to arrive early enough to preview everything and, more importantly, get a good parking spot. When you're attending an auction alone, parking is not a minor consideration. Because whatever you buy? You are also the entire moving company. And I'd prefer not to haul furniture, boxes, and miscellaneous questionable purchases halfway across the county.
By the time I finished restocking my booth, the weather was lovely. Blue skies. A few clouds. Sunshine. I even ditched my jacket. Rain? What rain? Famous last words.
The Garage Sale That Was Practically Part of the Auction
As I approached the auction location, I spotted something. A garage sale sign. Oh, for crying out loud. Now I had a decision to make. Do I follow the sign and risk losing a good parking spot at the auction? Or do I go directly to the auction and hope the garage sale is still going when I'm finished? This is the kind of high-stakes decision vintage dealers face on a regular basis. I chose the parking spot. Trying to be responsible. I would find the garage sale later.
Except when I pulled up to the auction, I discovered something wonderful. The garage sale was literally next door. Next. Door. I got a fantastic parking spot, and walked over. Apparently, the universe had decided to reward my responsible decision-making. For once.
And can we talk about the genius of these homeowners? If you know there's going to be an auction next door, with a crowd of people who are already predisposed to buying old things, THAT is the day to have a garage sale. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.
Well, I Guess We're Starting a Pile
The family was still setting up and bringing things out when I arrived. They had just put out a box of old books. Naturally, I started digging. And came up with about a dozen. So I started a pile. Because that's what you do when you find more than three things at a garage sale.
Then I spotted an old metal grain sifter. Into the pile.
Next came a box of old games and puzzles.
And there, waiting for me, were three unopened Star Wars puzzles and a Star Wars game, all from the early 1990s. Unopened! Into the pile.
Meanwhile, several of the auction regulars had wandered over to investigate. Even the auctioneers came over and made a purchase. Apparently, we were all getting warmed up before the main event. I paid for my treasures, loaded everything into the Jeep, and walked over to the auction. Which, I should remind you, was in the next yard. This is the kind of efficiency I can get behind.
The Auctioneer Knows My Weaknesses
I started looking around the auction and wasn't particularly impressed. Tools. Garage items. Miscellaneous things that weren't really on my radar. I wandered around for a bit and started thinking I might just leave. I'd already had a successful garage sale. Maybe that was enough. And then one of the auctioneers saw me. He must have read my mind. Because as I walked past, he said the things I'd be interested in were inside the house and down in the basement. They'd moved a lot of the merchandise indoors because of the expected rain.
Well. Apparently, my shopping habits are now public knowledge. Although, considering how often I attend local auctions, I suppose this shouldn't surprise me. The auctioneers know me. They know what I buy. So I headed inside. And wouldn't you know it? There was some very good junk in there.
The Waiting Game
Unfortunately, the auction started outside with the tools and garage merchandise. Which meant I had to wait. And wait. And wait some more. But the weather was still beautiful, so I enjoyed the sunshine and visited with some of the other auction regulars. After about an hour, they finally made their way to the things I wanted. My first purchase was an old metal stool with a wooden seat from the garage. A good, useful vintage piece with plenty of character.
Then we moved into the kitchen and dining area. And things got interesting.
Perfectly Imperfect Stoneware
I won a stack of old stoneware. And it was exactly the kind of stoneware I love finding. Crazed. Stained. Beautifully imperfect. The kind of pieces that show their age and have become so popular with collectors and vintage decorators. There was a time when people wanted everything pristine. Now? Give us the crazing. Give us the staining. Give us the evidence that something has actually been used for decades. We want the patina, people.
I also picked up a biscuit cutter with a green wooden handle. Because I am physically incapable of ignoring old kitchen utensils with painted wooden handles. I don't make the rules. I just follow them. I carried my purchases out to the Jeep. And noticed something. The sky was getting darker. The wind was picking up. Hmmm. Perhaps that rain forecast wasn't entirely fictional. Thankfully, the rest of the things I wanted were inside. Specifically, in the basement.
BINGO! And I Mean That Literally.
The first item I wanted in the basement was the one that had convinced me to stay at the auction. An old bingo cage. Now, I've purchased vintage bingo cages before. But this one was special. It was COMPLETE. The metal cage. All the wooden bingo balls. AND the card used to hold the balls after they'd been drawn. All three components.
Someone is getting fired. There is no photo of the bingo items. Oh wait, It's me. I'm responsible for that. I was sure I took a photo of it. I will get a photo taken soon! LOL
I rarely find them with everything intact. Usually something is missing. A handful of balls. The holder. Some mysterious piece that apparently disappeared in 1963. But not this one. This one had it all. And I won the bid. Bingo, indeed!
The Reliable Sellers and a Fondue Flashback
Next, I picked up two glass canister jars and a glass flower frog. These are the kinds of vintage pieces I find fairly often, but they consistently sell well in my booths. Not every auction purchase needs to be rare or unusual. Sometimes you just need good, dependable inventory.
And then I had my eye on a little blast from the 1970s. A fondue pot. Complete with the fondue forks. I see vintage fondue pots fairly often, but most of them have been well used. Scratched. Dinged. Missing pieces. This one was in fantastic condition. Apparently, someone had either taken exceptionally good care of it or decided fondue was a terrible idea after one dinner party. Either way, I was happy to bring it home.
A Book I Bought Entirely for the Pictures
There were only two more things in the basement I was particularly interested in. The first was a book.
The Lore of Fishing, published in 1978. It's an enormous book, about the size of a coffee table book. And the illustrations? Absolutely DIVINE.
I'm not a fishing enthusiast. I didn't buy it because I needed to learn more about fishing. I bought it because I couldn't stop looking at the artwork. 2,500 illustrations. Sometimes an old book is worth buying for the illustrations alone. The typography. The colors. The beautiful artwork. I love finding books that are as interesting visually as they are for their subject matter. And this one definitely qualifies.
The Box Lot with a Secret
My final purchase was technically a box lot. Although in this case, the box itself was part of the appeal. A sturdy old wooden box filled with miscellaneous odds and ends.
There was a brass anchor, possibly a paperweight.
A collection of rusty Hamm's beer bottle openers.
Another bottle opener with a little wooden barrel for a handle.
These weird little Bakelite pieces shaped like Austraila. I don't know what they are. Souvenirs maybe? I need to research a bit.
And a trench art lighter. Now, if you're unfamiliar with trench art, it's a fascinating category of military-related folk art and souvenirs. The term became especially associated with World War I, when soldiers, prisoners of war, and civilians created decorative or practical objects from materials connected to military life. Spent shell casings, cartridge cases, scrap metal, and other available materials were transformed into vases, ashtrays, lighters, letter openers, and all sorts of small objects.
Despite the name, not all trench art was actually made in the trenches. Some pieces were made behind the lines, by civilians, or after the war as souvenirs. It's an interesting combination of resourcefulness, craftsmanship, and history. Of course, without researching this particular lighter further, I can't say exactly when or where it was made. But it's an intriguing little piece. And I do love an intriguing little piece.
However. None of those things were the real reason I wanted the box. The good stuff was hiding in the bottom.
Two Bakelite Bunnies and an Accidental Collection
Buried underneath everything else were two Bakelite bunny napkin holders. Two, Bakelite bunny napkin holders. I rarely find Bakelite napkin holders in the wild. And the animal-shaped ones seem even harder to come across. But there they were. Two little bunnies. Waiting at the bottom of a box full of rusty bottle openers and miscellaneous objects. Which is precisely why I love box lots. You never know what's hiding underneath the stuff nobody bothered to investigate.
I wanted those bunnies for a very specific reason. I already have two animal-shaped Bakelite napkin holders displayed on a shelf in my dining room. And now I have two more. Which brings me to an important question. At what point does having several of something become a collection? I've always maintained that three or more qualifies. And now I have four. Well then, apparently I collect Bakelite animal napkin holders now. I did not wake up this morning knowing that about myself. But here we are.
And yes, I bought an entire box of miscellaneous junk to get them. I regret nothing. The sturdy wooden box was a bonus. Those are always useful and tend to sell well. I may even fill it with Christmas decorations for one of my booths. Because I cannot escape Christmas no matter how hard I try.
The Race Against the Rain
By this point, I had accumulated a respectable amount of merchandise. An old stool. Stoneware. Kitchen utensils. A fondue pot. A bingo cage. Books. A wooden box full of assorted treasures. And, of course, the garage sale haul that had started the whole adventure.
Which meant I had to get everything out of the basement. Up the stairs. Out of the house. And into the Jeep. By myself. Remember that good parking spot I was so worried about? This is why. It took several trips. And every time I came outside, the sky was a little darker. The wind was a little stronger. The clouds were looking increasingly suspicious. I kept loading. The weather kept threatening.
Finally, I made my last trip, paid my auction tab, and climbed into the Jeep. And just as I settled into the driver's seat? The first raindrop hit the windshield. Perfect timing. It rained most of the way home. But I didn't care. Everything was loaded. I was dry. And the Jeep was full of good junk.
Field Notes: Another Day, Another Garage Sale and Auction Haul
Looking back, this was one of those days that reminds me why I love vintage hunting. I started the morning expecting rain. I made a responsible decision about parking. And was immediately rewarded with a garage sale next door to the auction. I almost left the auction because I didn't see anything interesting. But an auctioneer who knows my shopping habits pointed me toward the basement. I found a complete vintage bingo cage, wonderful old stoneware, a beautiful illustrated book, and a box lot with two Bakelite bunnies hiding at the bottom. And I managed to get everything loaded just before the rain arrived.
Not bad for a Thursday.
Now I have a Jeep full of inventory to clean, research, price, and find room for. And apparently a new collection to accommodate on my dining room shelf. Four Bakelite animal napkin holders.
That's the thing about vintage hunting. You never know what you're going to find. Sometimes you don't even know what you're collecting until you get home. And sometimes the best garage sale of the day is literally next door to the auction. Any day at an auction is a lovely day! Even when it rains.
Take the back road. Find the good junk.
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