I didn't have to worry about parking, of course. I could just stroll down through the meadow.
But, Don't go! I counseled myself.
It so happened that we have other neighbors who were providing food for this auction. It was a fundraiser for the medical bills of their child who had a catastrophic illness. Obviously, I wanted to support that effort. Obviously, too, I wanted some of that yummy grilled chicken, ham and bean soup, chicken-corn soup, some of those whoopie pies, apple and shoofly pies. So now you can see that I simply had to go. (Dear Reader, please say that you can).
I walked down through the meadow to the auction.
But, Don't get a bidding number! I told myself.
All morning I had been listening to this:
Birds twittering and the rhythmic sounds of the auctioneer. You likely can't hear it, Listener Dear, but I could sometimes make out the words "A dollar, a dollar, a dollar, who'll give me a dollar?"
Dear me, suppose I were to forego a bidding number and lose out on a one-dollar bargain for lack of it?!
|Doll Babies Awaiting the Auction Block|
I got a number.
But, Don't bid on anything! I gave myself a strict injunction.
Well, then, Reader Dear...hmm...how best to explain it? There were tables and tables and tables filled with household goods. To most of it I could easily say "no". And there was absolutely and without a doubt not one single item that I needed!
To be continued...