Flourvonsponge Goes To Her First Auction

It’s been a whirlwind of a few weeks. The thing is, I’ve probably started many a blog post with that statement but by heck, this time I’ve really earned it. However for now, let’s talk about the other things. The things which are not the bakery, or the baking or the cakes.

I went to my first auction. Apparently I went to a really good one. I was dispatched by Slaveboy with a list of furniture we were interested in along with a maximum bid price for each item. I arrived early, stood at the back and was pretty much frozen solid in time, for for that if I scratched my nose, or twiddled my thumbs, such act might be mistaken for a bid. Silly I know, and irrational considering there were people fiddling about, eating their sandwiches and reading the newspaper.

But stood I did. For a little less than three hours. I didn’t want to miss my lots, you see.

And I think I witnessed a momentous event. I saw this come up for bidding. I poo-pooed it as some small ugly brown vase with fancy handles. Akin to a sixth former’s attempt at pottery. I wouldn’t have given it house and the owner certainly didn’t think much of it either as the reserve price was placed at £100.

It sold for £66,000.

Sixty six thousand pounds.

At the time it went to press, the owner was still away and unreasonable, and he was going to come home to the news that his vase had sold for 66K.

I texted Slaveboy about the vase that sold for £66,000. He promptly texted back reminding me that I need not spend quite as much.

As if.


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