Giant Fancy Things… cheaper than therapy.
I had told Paul that the weekend after New Year’s would be dedicated to GETTING ORGANIZED… I do this periodically: announce that THIS will be the weekend I get my life under control.
As with all my life-control projects, I was gangbusters at first.
I began a frenzy of organizational malice and misdirection— creating a disaster of the one thing that was arguably fine in this house, while also treating Elvis to one of her favorite activities: exploring places previously not available to her.
My plan was to condense and get rid of two bookcases… but after the initial arranging of books into piles, it slowly ground to a crawl… impaired by my need to re-read Ernie and look through photo albums, and also just the general life-process of one decision begetting the next decision which is always intolerably tedious and confusing to me.
Eventually becoming a gridlock of no decisions at all… where I sit on the floor comatose, thinking about how if I get rid of The Faerie Queen it will be tantamount to saying:
I AM NOT THE PERSON I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE.
MY PARENTS WILL NEVER APPROVE OF ME.
I SHOULD HAVE JUST JOINED THAT BIKER GANG.
Sometime in hour two, Paul came into the bookcase-storage-inn-of-chaos… He was silent while acclimating himself to having yet another unusable room in the house.
I felt judged by his silence, so I said defensively – I’m getting rid of ALL of these bookcases! TODAY!
Paul nodded. Then he said– is that code? Do you actually mean the opposite? That you will continue to get more bookcases until the entire house is full and we must sleep in the garage?
And apparently, that IS what I meant.
For ONE FULL YEAR, I have been seeing this ad on Craigslist… No photos, out of my budget, probably a piece of junk.
Every few months the ad would reappear and Self would whisper – you should definitely email them… remember that one time?
And? I do. I totally remember that one time when there were no pictures and it turned out to be a Kingdom Mirror.
But The Kingdom Mirror wasn’t $2,000… so for twelve months, I ignored Self’s instructions to email, hurry, go, buy, faster, now, run.
HOWEVER. It looks like this is the year I surrender responsibility for what comes and goes in this house and just delegate all decision-making to Self.
She has decided to commit to the full hoard.
The day I emailed the Craigslist poster, she was home.
I went right over.
Self said– YUP. FOR SURE. LET’S PACK IT UP.
But rather than just packing it up, I spent nearly an hour talking to the woman selling it… we really hit it off, the way you sometimes do with total strangers. But eventually we had to get down to business, and it was time to do my shtick where I throw Paul under the bus.
Vilifying Paul is my default negotiation strategy: I explain to the seller that if it were up to me, I would pay whatever they wanted!
But UNFORTUNATELY, I am married to a tyrannical despot who forces me to endure an ascetic life of monastic puritanism: a flinty and grim existence of hair shirts, boiled potatoes, and no unnecessary expense.
I pointed at the bookcase’s flaws. I gave the appearance of deciding that my husband would never agree. Finally saying that as much as I LOVED the bookcase, ultimately I could not meet her price… Sad face!
I left without making an offer.
I went home and said to Paul – good news!! Then I showed him photos of the key to my inner peace.
Paul said— what is your inner peace costing us?
I said – I do not know yet… I am hoping $500.
Paul thought about it and said— that’s cheaper than therapy. You should get it.
Then it was time for waiting.
Waiting is only a part of my negotiation strategy when something is expensive… it’s a risk, because someone else could show up and get your precious.
But the waiting gives the seller time to reflect on how you are the ONLY person who was remotely interested… And certainly the only person who actually showed up… And maybe they’d better take your offer before you disappear into the ether.
Also, the waiting allows me to get rid of stuff.
And the best way for me to detach from STUFF THAT IS MINE… is to have clearly defined STUFF I WOULD RATHER HAVE.
Finding a vastly fancier THING I WOULD PREFER TO HOARD, completely severs my attachment to THINGS ALREADY HOARDED.
Normally I try to wait two weeks, but I emailed the bookcase lady almost immediatly because I am not in charge anymore, and that is what Self directed me to do.
I told the bookcase lady that I couldn’t stop thinking about her bookcase… and how much I loved it… and that I had talked to my husband… and cruel man that he is, said $2,000 was too much… but we could do $500… which she agreed to.
I was like— sit tight. I WILL BE RIGHT OVER.
For some reason, anytime I am ready to proceed at warp speed, Paul goes into slow motion… you would be astounded at the slowness with which one person can move.
Someone should study him in a lab to better understand how wifely-urgency negatively impacts husband-speed.
He cannot find his keys. Or his phone. Or his jacket. Or his hat. He needs to brush his teeth. Then he goes into the kitchen and begins emptying the dishrack… leaving me in a position of either duct-taping my own mouth shut, or screaming— WHY ARE YOU EMPTYING THE DISHRACK?
WHY? WHY? WHY?
Reminding me that Paul and I are both eachother’s very definition of unreasonable.
FINALLY Paul was ready to leave… we drove over while I foamed at the mouth and considered jumping out of the car to express my excitement.
But when we got there, I felt an obligation to rein in the wild banshee of glee in order to observe my initial bond with this woman… I felt like I needed to chat her up a little bit and just generally let her know that her grandfather’s bookcase was going to a wonderful home.
However.
It did not occur to me to communicate to Paul that he was going to have to exhibit some social niceties. So the instant we walked into the room, he started taking it apart.
To him, we are here to get the bookcase – thus he will begin getting the bookcase… To him, it would make no sense to stand around NOT getting the bookcase, so he got right down on the floor and started removing the drawers.
After a moment, the bookcase lady said to me quietly – your husband is very no-nonsense.
Paul looked up from the floor and said – yes. Because my wife is ALL-NONSENSE. There is literally no physical space in my world for any more nonsense.
He gestured around and said– please notice that the year has barely begun, and already I am in someone else’s home, lying on their floor, taking apart furniture that we do not need so that I can take it to our home, which is already a place full of other furniture we do not need.
Self walked over and clapped Paul on the back and shouted— WELCOME TO 2016!
index of all my Craigslist finds.
Jutta
February 1, 2016 @ 11:38 pm
If you now need a new resting place for either one of these mirrors, let me know…
Lauren
February 3, 2016 @ 1:18 pm
This made me laugh out loud! My husband came in the room and I read it to him and he laughed too! That bookcase was a steal and we are in awe of your negotiating skills!
Kate
February 3, 2016 @ 8:56 pm
SO Jealous! What a fabulous book case, and I love your old ones too. Never find furniture like that here, too new. I really need to move to the east coast and buy a huge old Victorian. Sigh.
Suzi
February 7, 2016 @ 11:37 am
I always love your posts….I am a GFT lover myself…I think we have husband twins. I get us into some crazy stuff and he complains but pulls out the debit card or cash!
Michele Obarow
February 7, 2016 @ 10:34 pm
You are amazing! Tim and I purchased our 1898 Victorian in 2001. My description to family and friends is “our old house is like Great Grandma on life support” The past 15 years of all out diy work has paid off; layers of paint revealed carved panels, East Lake door hardware and a copper door bell is working again! New kitchen, bathroom,windows and more! My husband has taught me the “art of pacing ones self” Happy to say great granny is now off life support, with a few precautionary procedures in the very near future!
Mimi Michalski
February 8, 2016 @ 9:49 am
Fabulous blog! A friend sent me this post saying she thought I’d like it, and that was a total understatement! I went back and read Parts 1-3 of explaining how you got to where you are and jumped around to about 5 other linked posts. The one about the bathroom was so us! We bought our 1912 sort-of Victorian in 1987 and have worked on it ever since. When we first moved in the first thing we said was “This bathroom has to go.” Talk about tiny and badly arranged! Worse than having the toilet and sink opposite each other, the tub was lengthwise in the room PLUS the toilet and sink were opposite each other. It was like walking into a coffin. Well, with one thing and another, we didn’t get around to doing the bath (because it was the only one in the house, along with a toilet in the basement that leaked when you flushed it) until two years ago – when we realized that if we waited much longer the tub would eventually fall into the kitchen as it had been leaking for about 25 years and the ceiling kept dropping ominous bits of plaster onto the stove. By this time we had had enough of doing anything ourselves and we went out and hired The Man. The Man said as long as we were doing the bathroom we should do the kitchen (which was only marginally less awful). I’ll spare you the details but the out come was wonderful! Your adventures of restoring your old house and getting all those antiques so reminded me of when we first bought our house – and our subsequent antiquing phase. We once bought a wardrobe in New York City and brought it back in the back of our 1985 Saab. That car could fit almost anything! But probably not a 12-foot Kingdom Mirror or an Eastlake bookcase! Our husbands are saints… these stories are so funny and so true!
Mimi Michalski
February 8, 2016 @ 9:54 am
Oh, and by the way – This is my hsuband to a T! I laughed out loud!
“He cannot find his keys. Or his phone. Or his jacket. Or his hat. He needs to brush his teeth. Then he goes into the kitchen and begins emptying the dishrack… leaving me in a position of either duct-taping my own mouth shut, or screaming— WHY ARE YOU EMPTYING THE DISHRACK?
WHY? WHY? WHY?”
Robyn
February 8, 2016 @ 9:48 pm
Ohmygoodness, I can totally relate to the need to duct tape my mouth shut, what is it with these men that they move SOOOOOOOOOO slow when we urgently need something? Garage sale finds, Craigslist finds, church sale finds, etc. My husband drives me CRAZY with this. Does he really need to use the restroom right when I’m ready to go? Or yes, even better, unload the dishwasher. (Is it just me, or does your husband never unload the aforesaid dishwasher at any other time other than when you are trying to get something?) Seriously. Nerve. Wracking.
laura the real laura
February 9, 2016 @ 10:01 am
and then…the GIANT SQUID SCARF ATTACKED!!!
Holy moly! That’s a lot of wool.
Anyways. We used to congratulate ourselves for buying and assembling IKEA shelves without divorcing, so kudos to you and Paul.
Sue J.
February 15, 2016 @ 7:48 am
fabulous, giant, fancy. a very good day.
Lexi
March 2, 2016 @ 1:34 am
A friend of mine sent me the link to your site (crazy blog reader that I am) and I have just had the time of my life reading all your about your finds and Giant FANCY Things! Such a good post and video! More soon please!
Susanne
March 2, 2016 @ 10:26 am
“Sure, Baby, if that’s what you want.” If only my husband would answer me that!
Shelley Creed
March 7, 2016 @ 4:05 pm
Paul is a treasure and you are absolutely hysterical! I love your posts!
antiquechase
March 9, 2016 @ 5:28 pm
The paragraph with the “nonsense”…. I just had to forward it to my husband… who I’m sure CAN RELATE… just too too too funny!!
~Marcy
Marian@CMShawStudios
March 18, 2016 @ 9:08 am
You have no idea how much I relate to this experience. Seriously. My man is just like Paul, a reasonable person who thinks I have lost my ever loving mind on Craigslist. And just for the record, immaculate East Lake bookcase for $500? Worth EVERY minute of the wait. Well done my friend.
The Other Marian
Babette
April 2, 2016 @ 5:28 pm
I think Paul and my husband were secretly separated at birth. I’m always, “But darling, don’t you see how magnificent this will look in the corner of the room we never use?”
Husband is always, “It’s dirty, it’s scratched, etc. Just one time, can you not buy something that needs more work? And, we’re running out of room. The corner you speak of, already has your last magnificent find, sitting it.”
Karen
May 9, 2016 @ 7:34 pm
When you finish this house PLEASE, PLEASE buy another! I have not laughed so hard in quite some time. I will also keep in mind your tips for getting all the things you love. I am married to a level headed guy who believes in only practicality!!
Roberta
May 9, 2017 @ 4:10 pm
I think we are soul sisters separated at birth
Made me laugh and forget I have a miserable cold
Keep writing and keep seeking!
JOELLE L METZ
July 17, 2020 @ 12:56 pm
I am utterly astounded and also a bit jealous of this $500 GFT!!!!! Are you some kind of magician? this is the only explanation for the squirrel that lives in my head and asked me why I didn’t find a bookcase like that! Beautiful!!!