Tuesday, September 20, 2011

In Plain Sight


After last week’s auction debacle with the nonexistent books I was determined, as you know, to find a replacement – and, believe it or not, I did. It was in Geauga County which is about an hour and a half from where we live. The trip was lovely though, as the land is green and rolling and the atmosphere pastoral, with none of those sad used-up small towns that never fail to plummet me into a funk. It didn’t take long to realize, however, that we were heading deeper and deeper into Amish country. Whenever I think of Ohio Amish communities I think immediately of Holmes County which is the Amish version of Niagara Falls – not because of cascading water, but cascading tourists. They rush out of busses and cars filled with holiday exuberance and leave in their wake a healthy flow of cash spent on buggy rides, quilts, antiques, inns, Amish cooking, bulk spices, and Amish-made furniture.

Buggies abounded on the road to the auction, as did the sight of farm equipment, horses, cows, and large plain white houses and barns. Nearing our destination though we turned onto a road dotted primarily with modern ranch houses and pulled to a stop in front of the one working farm on it. From the passenger seat I gazed across Eric and out the window at a yard filled with STUFF of all kinds presided over by a small army of Amish men and women scurrying about to bring yet more things from the house and prepare the food for the auction-goers to buy. Many times I have been to auctions with Amish bidders, but this was the first one ever held at an Amish farm. Aside from about four other people, we were the only “English” in attendance which was quite interesting, though Eric does have Amish customers at the store sometimes and when I was editor of a weekly newspaper (first journalism job a million years ago) the Amish drove into town to place classified ads at the newspaper office. But even so, the novelty of it gave the day a welcome little zip.

For about ten minutes we walked around gazing at furniture, dishes, linens, and tools with no books in sight. Normally this would be enough to send my internal alarm into shriek mode, but I was too busy watching a young Amish man to notice. The rest of the men and boys wore long-sleeved blue work shirts topped with black vests, but not this guy. Never mind that it was cold enough to practically see your breath -- he strutted around like a banty rooster in a short-sleeved, very fitted shirt showing off his considerable physique. The pants, while of the Amish button-front style, were also fitted -- think rumble scene in West Side Story. I was quite bemused until Eric spotted the books and beckoned me over

I should have spotted them myself given the crowd hovering around the many boxes, but I don;' recall ever seeing  an Amish guy who not only was a hunk, but KNEW it. Hmmm –  that’s not what we’re here to talk about though, is it? No, it’s not. So then ….

It’s been our experience that the Amish LOVE books and will pay astonishing – make that, staggering -- amounts of money for them. The only time I ever won a bidding war against an Amish man was for an over-sized two volume set of 19th century books about “modern” machinery and it ended up costing me a hundred dollars when I’d expected to pay $50. Ah, but not to worry. After going through a dozen boxes the handwriting was on the wall. Unless you wanted Amish romances, children’s books of the Laura Ingalls Wilder variety, quilting books, cookbooks, German bibles, and cowboy coloring books from the 50’s all colored in, this was not your auction. Sadly. we departed without even registering.

As we turned back onto the main road though Eric spotted a garage sale. Yes, I know I don’t love garage sales, but by then I was desperate. The house was a modern ranch and the very nice lady running the sale a Mennonite. She had had many books, she informed me, but she’d advertised on Craig’s List and all the “good ones” were gone. Fortunately, those consisted of 36 Janet Oke romances, so the pain was more than tolerable, especially after we discovered three surprisingly good books in the garage – The Amish In America; Failed Settlements (it had dates, but I don’t remember and the book is already at the mall), plus Mennonites in Europe and Amish Mennonites in Germany; The Estates Where They Lived, and Their Families.

At that point we were downright giddy with success, so we threw caution to the wind and took a detour through the town of Ravenna. As luck would have it a charity run in town blocked off the main drag and forced us to turn onto a side street which brought us smack in front of the library and a large sign that said BOOK SALE. I knew very well that Saturday was the last day of the picked-over sale, but when the book gods send you a scrap of anything you’re wise to shut up and be grateful. So in we go and within five seconds I am holding a brand new Easton Press leatherbound copy of Together We Cannot Fail; FDR and The American Presidency in the Years of Crisis replete with its CD. A few minutes more and I find an extremely handsome British edition of Thomas Hardy’s A Pair of Blue Eyes from the 1960’s in a very nice dustjacket. That, too, is already at the mall. Admittedly, it wasn’t a lot to get excited about, but here’s the thing -- the bill was a dollar. A DOLLAR!


I know, I know, it could still be argued that the excursion was a failure considering how far we traveled. But I beg to differ. Five good books for a song, a great time, and a Thai salad at Panera upon return to civilization is not to be sneezed at. AND, let us not forget, that doesn’t even count the banty rooster and his fitted shirt!

6 comments:

Andrea said...

I can see writing an Amish romance in your future.

tess said...

Ha-ha! The only thing is, banty roosters and shirts aside, I am definitely NOT of the rural persuasion!

Saturday Evening Post said...

Uh-huh....

tess said...

Uh-huh WHAT? This should be good.

Saturday Evening Post said...

mmmm.

tess said...

Great -- NOW I get it!!!