Craigslist Amy

If you haven't heard, there is a movie called Craigslist Joe.  It's a documentary about a guy that cuts himself off from family and friends for 30 days and lives entirely off of Craigslist.  He bums food, a place to sleep, odd jobs and rides across the country and back, all using Craigslist.

I'm no Craigslist Joe, but I do have a certain affinity for the website.  My earthy, tree-hugger side loves the idea of purchasing (recycling, if you will) perfectly fine furniture to fill the nooks and crannies of our home.  My bargain hunter side loves spending half of retail on kids toys.  My community-minded heart enjoys meeting local friends that want to buy my trash and adopt it as their new treasure. 

To clarify (and put my husband's eye rolling to rest), we are very blessed and can fully afford things purchased new at a real store.  However, I am the daughter of a frugal German who himself was raised by a son of the Great Depression.  My ability to pay full price for anything is crippled by genetics.  Additionally, I have small children and a dog in my home. New and beautiful things don't stand a snowball's chance in hell at our house right now. 

And so when I find used/discounted things that are useful, semi-nice, sturdy, and fill a need in our home, I call that a good day.  My most recent find came from the Home Consignment Depot in Redding.  This store is nothing fancy.  They have a large, slightly dingy, hodge-podge shaped showroom that features everything from beds to aquariums to wall art to washing machines.  The merchandise here runs the gamut...if you need a $20 coffee table for your son's first apartment, they've got you covered.  Or, if you want to spend hundreds of dollars on an immaculate, 4-piece bedroom set, you'll probably find that too.  Prices are good.  Staff is friendly.  Merchandise turns over quickly. To be clear, it's no frills.  If you have a hard time seeing past the dust or stepping over a bucket of toys to look at the dresser you want, this isn't the place for you. 

Turns out the perfect desk was waiting for us at the Home Consignment Depot.  Hubby has been wanting a desk since he occasionally works from home and hijacks my desk for a work space.  In the interest of marital harmony, the additional desk was a necessity. Here is the super cool desk that was hiding in the back corner...

It's a funky-cool, antique typewriter desk, to be exact.  It's got a tricky, flip-top, transformer feature that allows you to fold up your typewriter (if you happened to actually own a typewriter) inside the desk and out of sight. 

No, we don't have a typewriter.  But we do have an appreciation for solid wood furniture that seems to have become obsolete with the advent of computers. 

This baby is big (to hold two computer screens that are "necessary" for hubby to be productive), solid (to withstand toddlers climbing on it or dogs running into/over/under it), and affordable.  It's no Ikea, assemble-yourself piece of junk that looks like it belongs in an episode of the Jetsons.  This is a piece of real furniture.  It will probably last a lifetime. 

And after we're gone, our kids can keep this treasure in their home and tell stories about their crazy parents that bought a typewriter desk 20 years after typewriters became obsolete.

Either that or sell it on Craigslist.