Estate sales are funny like that.
You go in looking for maybe a cast iron skillet or an old cookie tin, and somehow you leave wondering why someone kept a weird silver “soap bar” next to the sink for 40 years.
No label. No scent. No moving parts. Just this smooth chunk of metal sitting there like it belongs—and apparently, it did.
The first time I saw one, honestly, I thought it was a paperweight. Or maybe one of those random kitchen gadgets people bought from TV commercials in the
