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Posted by Mummy Dearest on Aug-30-2005

This Friday, The Father and I are going into The Big City to view lots at an upcoming auction. In fact, we are also planning to bee-bop- by there on Sunday as well, for we learned at the last auction ( our first) that our note keeping needs work- although I was remarkably well organized. For me.

But we had a wonderful, do- something- together time at the last auction and have decided to attend them on a regular basis. After all, our house is bare and there are lamps and rugs and furniture and doo- dads up the gazoo at these auctions. At very affordable prices and having interesting , don’t- see- that-every- day features.

I have already read through the descriptions of all 3,500 lots.


And you wonder where I have been.

I even took notes. Oh, wouldn’t The Boy just love getting a stuffed ( like in taxidermy) crocodile for Christmas ? Or a fistful of Roman coins ? And a silver backed hair brush for The Girl, ala Titanic… And what did I spy that I noted for myself ? An old telephone from Belgium, one that must be cranked up. Wouldn’t I love that and isn’t there just a snowball’s chance of me finding that under our tree this year ?

Nope, The Father has bought all of these little wireless phones and they have replaced all but one of my Bakelite phones, that one that the more astute of you noticed hanging in our kitchen. Why, if we wanted to, we could take our calls on the toilet. Now.

But it is simply screaming to be asked : who, really, wants to take a call while taking a dump ?

Beyond me, old fashioned creature that I am.

I avoid ( as some of you know) our new fangled phones as much as possible : I miss- poignantly, I must add- cradling the weight of a phone between my neck and chin. I cannot adapt, I miss whispering into the pierced circle of an old fashioned phone.

However, yesterday I found myself on the phone- new fangled- from just about 8 o’clock in the morning until- on and off- 11 am. For as well as being our, oh, let’s see : The Girl is 12 and so it must be our 22nd wedding anniversary, yesterday was also The Girl’s first day at her new school.

She wanted me to go with her on the bus, simply to show her when to push the button, but I couldn’t come, dragging The Baby back and forth to school got in the way, although I suppose that if The Girl had wilted, wept a bit, I would have gone, found an alternative. But The Girl is made of stronger stuff than I and headed off to her new school

On the bus.

Sortof. She had me on her little handy, dandy telephone for most of the time she was gone. I shared her moments stepping off of the bus, told her where her school should be, calmed her when she announced that there were only big kids going into the building, no little ones, like her. I waited with her for the bus home.

Of course, here at casa kitchen, I was foaming at the mouth to know how it had gone. I guess that I was expecting miracles, for of course the most enthusiastic response I could get out of her was that it was…

are you ready for this ?


  1. Karan Said,

    I think that you are one of the few people I would most want to join in attendance in an event like this.

  2. Catherine Said,

    Glad the first day went well, and – Happy Anniversary to you both!

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