Monday, August 13, 2012

Dangling On the Book Hook



Time  shot into hyper-drive this morning as we began counting  down the days until we take possession of the new booth at the antiques mall. The contractor is still off at another job and has been for a week which is good in some ways, but not in others. It really doesn’t matter in the larger scheme of things though. The important thing right now is filling up that space at the mall.

I found a great estate sale  – far away, but maybe worth it – that opened last Friday and had excellent books judging by what was listed. But Friday morning I woke to heavy rain and a feeling of having been run over by a semi. I dragged myself out of bed, made some coffee, toasted a bagel and had breakfast – my pre-dawn cure for anything that ails me. But, alas and allack,  no magic got conjured  this time.  When fibro slams me that hard even a cinnamon raisin bagel with crunchy peanut butter and a mug of Folger’s dark roast is second rate  wizardry. We could have gone the next day of course, but there was little point in making such a long trip when we knew all the good stuff would either be gone or still too pricey, so we took a pass on it and hit the Akron sales instead. Not only were all three of them barking dogs (though I did get a like new 1956 Girl Scout calendar in its original envelope, an 8 volume set of Audel’s from the 30’s for the mall and two like new 60’s gift books of the treacly variety in their original boxes, also for the mall), but it was FREEZING outside. I’d worn sandals which means that for the rest of day I dragged around two blocks of ice attached to my ankles.

By the time we finished making the rounds we felt like a pair of spent balloons, so what did we do? We went  to an auction of course! They hadn’t advertised books, but some of the furniture looked pretty good, so off we went in search of a couple stand-out pieces to help pay the freight at the mall . Within minutes  I spotted a box with books that should have been easy picking, but turned out to be the box from the Twilight Zone. In this unadvertised flat  lay several  celluloid prayer books, one perfect in its original box, two rosaries, one especially pretty, and a ton of religious cards. There was also something I’d never seen before – two patches bearing the image of Pope Pius XII in a deep rose color. Immediately I equated them with scouting badges.

As the recipient of a thing called the Marian Award which provided me with the most hellish summer of my short reluctant Girl Scouting career I know that Catholic scouting programs have their own awards in addition to the official ones. But I didn’t care if that’s what those patches were or not --  I just wanted the prayer books. Usually I get these every time they come to auction, but this time one lone guy challenged me to a spirited bidding war. I never engage in these  – NEVER – but I guess maybe it was the shock of competition that  impelled me to take my final bid  to a mind-boggling $90! Fortunately, I snapped to my senses just in time and let him haul the whole lot  home for $95. I tried researching the patches this morning, but nothing turned up. All I can say is they better be humdingers or his buyer’s remorse  is so far off the charts it’s  probably already caught up with the Curiosity rover that just landed on Mars.

Fortunately, I got  furniture instead and even learned how to date a Lane cedar chest in the process. Not bad for a booky type like me, huh? Anyway, I got a Lane chest  which is from 1948, all sleek, blond and shiny in a modern way that I used to hate, but now find strangely attractive. The chest part is on the top and there’s  a drawer underneath, so it’s sort of a high-rise  among cedar chests. It still smells like cedar, retains  all its original labels and  even has the original key. I’m beginning to think it’s a less common one, as  I perused hundreds online, and didn’t even find it when I googled its model number.  It had some condition issues, but nothing a nice coat of orange oil couldn’t handle, so at the moment it’s all spiffed up fancy as a chorus girl. To add to the fun, I also bought three teak Danish modern occasional tables, again something I didn’t used to like. I’d show you pictures, but it’s all  jammed into the garage with the building supplies, so you’ll have to wait til we get it all in the booth.

But great though the furniture is I’m still right where I was before the auction -- dangling precariously on the end of the book hook. Somehow between now and September 1st seven  bookcases  need to be filled and  for the immediate future there's no ready  solution on the horizon.  But here’s what I’m thinking. I can bring a bunch of sets, a ton of paper, those elegant slide rules we bought, and what individual books I do have, and at least look reasonably viable.  The problem is that if/when  I sell stuff I won’t have anything much to fall back on without digging  too deeply into my online inventory. Christmas is fast approaching too. And Eric and will be gone most of September. And all the calls we’ve gotten lately were for books so decrepit even a seller with no standards would run screaming into the night

It’s not good. But you know what? For once in my life I’m not going to worry about it. Somehow it will all work out.

8 comments:

Hilda said...

I'm breathless from your running. Will have to post more when I catch my breath!

tess said...

I'll post again when I do too, Hilda!Thanks for the laugh.

Saturday Evening Post said...

Did I miss something here? I know you mentioned some slide rules from the forties, but this is is the first I've heard of "elegant" slide rules! Tell me more.

tess said...

No, you didn;' miss a thing. I think the slide rule is by its nature an elegant instrument. Especially these older ones that are celluloid over mahogany with glass cursors. I even know how to look them up and figure out what they are such as the one that's a log log deci-trig. Are you dazzled yet?

Saturday Evening Post said...

Oh, I agree. Even my first slide rule, which cost 29 cents at Kresge's or Woolworth's, was a masterpiece of elegant design. And the really fine ones are a pleasure to hold and use. On the other hand, while I'm impressed with your knowledge of the instrument, you should be aware that people were trying to dazzle me in the fifties with their log log deci-trig rules. Didn't work then, either.

tess said...

Not impressed, huh? Well, I don't blame you as I only talk the talk. I have no idea what any of it means.I wouldn't do much better with the one for 29 cents! But come on -- I DO sound good, don't I?nd I do appreciate their beauty. I really do.

Saturday Evening Post said...

You do, you do. And you continually dazzle me.

tess said...

Hmmmmm. Well, thank you, though I DID shamelessly fish for that compliment!