I was about to pass right by a large box of flower pots when I did a double take. I stopped to make sure my eyes were not fooling me. But there it was, hard compacted lifeless dirt in several ceramic and plastic pots, some of which still had dead leaves in them.
On the floor at the foot of the box were two carved gray stone planters – the heavy kind that you practically need a bulldozer to move when they’re empty – packed with dirt.
I’m still amazed at the things that turn up at auction, and even more amazed at the “other” that auctioneers take out of people’s homes. You’d think that someone would have returned the soil to Mother Nature while on-site rather than hauling it back to the auction house. I suppose the dirt is part of the family’s estate, so it gets sold, too.
I pointed it out to one auctioneer, hoping for a logical answer to why. He seemed incredulous, too, but I think that was just trying to humor me. I’m sure he’s picked up the same type of stuff. Cleaning out a house is probably second nature to them: You go in and you haul out (maybe I should accompany one of them to see how it’s actually done).
This wasn’t the first time I’d seen this. A day or two earlier, I was at another estate sale where I came upon a nice aluminum tub. Inside was what looked like coal, a small shovel and some other metal tools. In the basement of the home was an old cast iron potbelly stove.
A couple months ago, this same auction house sold two rooms of stuff taken from the homes of Robert Stinson Jr., who has been accused by the government of conducting a Ponzi scheme that bilked 260 investors out of $17 million.
The rooms were the epitome of overindulgence – loads of stuff bought from QVC or just about anywhere else the family saw something that they liked. Many were still in boxes, unopened, in the basement of the family’s home, according to one auctioneer.
The auction house held three rooms of stuff: table after table of Christmas ornaments and decorations, games, household goods and clothes; electronics and musical instruments, bulky ornate furniture and more. Outside for sale were 13 cars, including Mercedes and BMWs.
The auction house was contracted to do a clean-out of the properties, and the workers apparently took everything just as they found it.
A nice black Weber grill still had the gray cold charcoal from a cookout. A handsome Dyson butterscotch-colored vacuum cleaner – which I lost out on after the bidding reached $170 – still had dust in it. A push broom still had lint in its bristles, and a sponge mop needed a fresh refill.
The grill and vacuum cleaner appeared to be in good shape, and all they seemed to need was a good cleaning. At auction price, it’d be easy to take disinfectant to water to make them your own.
Like that house, the one with the planter dirt seemed to have been cleared of practically everything, too, down to the cooking and cleaning products. One box contained two used toilet plungers.
I don’t know if I’d want any else’s toilet plunger. Would you? I wasn’t around when that box lot sold, but I’m sure that it did – if not for the plungers, then for the other products.
Likewise, I wasn’t around when the planters sold, but I’m sure someone bought them, too. Very little goes un-bought at auction. I’m sure that’s what the auction staff figured when they hauled in the planters with the dirt. No one would notice, they likely surmised, especially if the entire lot was offered for a buck.
