Not long ago, I found a weathered and broken concrete lawn jockey destined for a dumpster. It had been stashed inside an old garage for many years.

I spent a few days playing Dr. Fix-It by cementing it back together. Finally, I had fun painting it and adding a lantern, giving it renewed life.

Last week, I stumbled on another find while hitting flea markets and sales. That's something I do when the weather suits and if I'm in the mood. Maybe Perkiomenville. Maybe Hometown. Maybe Leesport. Whatever my heart desires. I don't plan. I wake up and simply follow an inner guide. Truth is, that's  one of the pleasures of retirement. No schedules. No deadlines. No pressure. Just go with the flow and follow gut instinct.

Since the weather was perfect, I ended up at a few sales in the Lehigh Valley.

Saw lots of the usual and mundane. Old baby clothes and strollers. Used car parts. Antique crocks and outhouse bottles.

But buried behind a playpen and beneath piles of used clothing was something that caught my eye. It looked to be some kind of hand-painted dresser but I couldn't tell.

"I can dig it out for you to see," said the woman.

My eyes opened wider as she slowly revealed a very large, grimey marble-top cabinet.

"Ah ... a dining room piece," I said. But she corrected me.

"No, it was used as a TV stand. It came out of one of those old mansions in West Allentown. I guess you could use it as an accent piece if you want."

I knew what it was but wasn't going to argue. It didn't matter.

"Look," she continued. "We have a lot of stuff here and it all has to go. We need to get rid of it. Let me know because either way it's going. When this item is gone, I'll have this spot filled in no time at all," she proclaimed, hoping to get rid of the annoyance.

She told me she was looking for a couple hundred dollars. She recognized that a piece so large should be worth a few hundred, regardless of how a person intended to use it.

That did it. I couldn't resist.

The cabinet reminded me of my first employer, Hess's of Allentown, and it came from the same general neighborhood. My old stomping ground.

So I reached inside my pocket and gave her cash.

She was so delighted at my fast response that she turned and asked her helpers to load the heavy piece onto my truck right away.

My next mission was to drive 40 miles north before the rainstorm arrived.

Why do I do this to myself, I thought, as I meandered through city traffic, careful not to jostle my payload treasure.

I shouldn't be buying furniture. I'm retired. I should be downsizing.

But how could I say no? The neglected cabinet might otherwise be trashed. She considered it an intrusion. It was too large. It took up too much space.

Anyway, it wasn't a TV stand, although I have no doubt it was being used as one, as she said.

Beneath heavy layers of dirt and tarnish was a Neoclassical Louis XVI formal dining room sideboard, complete with flashy gold and brass trim, or ormolu mounts. Adorning the front and both sides was elaborate marquetry in a variety of wood veneers. The beveled green marble was very dirty but flawless. Everything about the piece was spectacular.

Its significance and value far exceed the few hundred dollars I shelled out.

It's a period piece that defines a movement in ornamentation. It mimics nature and yet celebrates the uniqueness of intricacy.

It took just one day for me to bring it back to glory. It was a labor of love and a privilege to work on it.

To be honest, it needed only a healthy dose of elbow grease and someone who cares.

I like to think I saved it from additional neglect and I'll never understand why an antique of that caliber can end up at a junk sale.

Of course, one man's trash is another man's treasure.

And I'm happy to be a junk man. It's adding a lot of fun to retirement.