Look back 50 years and it’s a marvel to think that our parents’ and grandparents’ generations thought nothing of heading to their local auction rooms when furnishing their homes.

In those days, the local chattels auctioneer, livestock auctioneer and estate agent were often part of the same firm. It made sense; when someone died, it meant that their family could dispose of everything via a sort of one-stop shop rather than having to look around for several different firms to provide the service.

Furniture, silver, glass, ceramics and pictures from one home in the district would be recycled to others and so families built up their own collections of heirlooms and invested in chairs, tables, sofas and beds that would last a lifetime, before being handed on to someone else.

Tastes may have changed, but this tradition of making things last that predated the throwaway society we became is ripe for revival now we have become so concerned with the adverse effects of plastic and other disposable materials. It also explains why quality is as important from a practical point of view as it is from an appreciation of aesthetics. Well-made pieces built to last that are pleasing to the eye may not be the ideal for today’s manufacturer’s relying on repeat sales, but you’ll often find them at auction and they are keystones to a sustainable future, just as our parents and grandparents knew. Now it’s time for the next generation to find this out.

Occasionally someone brings an item in for valuation or sale that is so odd that it can be impossible to identify. This is either because it is so rare, no one has seen one before, or because its original purpose is now defunct.

I have seen two such items in the past week, one of which I actually handled, the other I saw in a news report. The first was a small, lozenge-shaped silver box with a finial of two birds. It was hollow and pierced to the sides and contained a stone, sealed within. The bottom of the box was ridged. What could it be? Fortunately, the owner knew. It transpired that the box once served two purposes: the first clue was in the ridged surface to the underside, which was used as an exfoliator by the ladies of the harem in the sultan’s palace; the clue to the second was the stone. As the ladies scrubbed, the stone rattled, acting as a warning to anyone about to enter that they were mid ablutions and so should not be disturbed.

The second item I saw was a real rarity: looking rather like a large metal seed, which just about fitted in the hand, it turned out to be an early form of grenade, used by crusaders, which was fund in the sea of Israel. I don’t expect to see another of those in my lifetime.

Estimated at £30-50, a severely damaged 1889 penny coin has just sold for nearly £5500 at auction. It was relatively rare because of its age, but not that special in terms of numismatics. No, what attracted bidders in their droves was the fact that the damage was caused by a bullet in the trenches during the First World War and its presence in the pocket of Private John Trickett had saved his life. This stroke of luck meant that, years later, his granddaughter was born and it was she who decided to put the coin up for sale – where her cousin successfully outbid others to keep it in the family.

This is a fine example of how it is so often the story associated with an item, rather than any intrinsic value, that makes it so sought after at auction.

Mistakes happen too, and while they can often be costly, they can also bring a great stroke of luck. One of my favourite stories involves a man who bought a painting in a thrift shop in Pennsylvania for $4 because he liked its frame. Removing the picture to inspect the frame more closely, he found that it concealed one of the original copies of the American Declaration of Independence, which went on to sell for $2.4 million at auction.

It’s been a remarkable couple of weeks in the auction world, and this period has reminded me of what a wonderful business we work in. Whether it is rock and pop memorabilia, fine art, photography or pretty much anything else really, something of interest has hit the headlines.

The first recording of David Bowie’s Starman, a reel-to-reel demo tape from 1971 packed away in a loft for decades, was expected to fetch £10,000 but sold for over £50,000. Peter Hook’s Joy Division collection made tens of thousands too, while the late pop star George Michael’s art collection was knocked down for £11.3 million. Meanwhile previously unseen photos of the Queen and Prince Philip relaxing on holiday in the 1940s and ’50s taken, it seems, by the author Daphne Du Maurier among others, have been consigned for an April sale.

But three auction stand out for me as the most unusual: the first involved a couple who thought they were bidding on a two-bedroom Glasgow flat but ended up buying a large derelict by mistake (this wouldn’t happen in a chattels auction); the astonishing price of $1.4 million paid for a racing pigeon and, my favourite, the food firm Heinz bought back a gold baked bean, created to mark the centenary of the popular foodstuff in 1995, for £750… also in Glasgow.