Why is a Raven Like a Writing Desk?

 

 

So this is the writing desk that I recently purchased at an auction. Really, Forrest did because I was too nervous to bid on it myself. Auctions are scary business. See my other auction post. But really, the auction we go to is so low key that I don't think I would ever survive in the kinds I see on television. I scratch my nose way too much, for one thing.

Back to my desk. I have no idea how old it is or where it was made because it is conveniently missing any type of markings or numbers except on the lock (for which I have no key). But when I googled the series of letters and numbers inscribed upon it, I was greeted by genetic coding results. So, dead end. I don't think my desk has anything to do with genetics. Or at least I hope it doesn't?

All of the knobs are different and the hinges on one side are almost falling off, but I really love this adorable little desk. It's the first real furniture purchase Forrest and I have made together so that makes it even more special.

Also making appearances are some of the very old books I have picked up here and there at different cathedral book sales, a few of the Wedgwood plates that I bought at the same auction, and the pretty tulips that I saw and had to have. I broke two of them trying to wedge them into that mason jar. I felt like I owed it to the two now stunted tulips to confess my mishandling. Poor tulips. 

Our First Auction

Going to an auction is something I keep telling myself I will do while I am in England but never do. It's stupid really because I mean, hello, cheap antiques in abundance over here! So we finally went to one and realized that we aren't very good at them. And when I say we, I mean I. I start sweating profusely when the auction man gets close to an item I want and I can't even do the bidding myself. Forrest told me that he gave the evil eye to a guy he was bidding against. And he won, so. 

Something I really want to take back to the states is some type of antique furniture. Maybe a writing desk or an end table, even an old trunk, but something. I want it to be something I can pass down to my children and grandchildren and tell them that their mother bought it while living in England wayyyyy back when she and their dad were having the time of their lives without kids. Because we are. 

Anyway, I (or maybe Denise who also reeeally wanted it) found this antique monks bench that I positively needed. 18th century with lions as armrests and the seat opened for storage. Best thing I have ever seen. No one really seemed that interested in it because a lot of people go to these auctions for new furniture which they have in abundance.

So we waited. We bid (bidded?) on a few things with no luck. Apparently we have great taste because most of the things we wanted started out way too high for our pocketbooks. There was even a teeny tiny stuffed owl and a stuffed mole(?!?!) that we did not bid on but watched in disbelief as some people walked away with it minus £30 or so.We waited and waited and waited for number 508 to be called. The thing is, I wasn't really prepared for how much it would go for (about £300 or $500) nor was I prepared for how much others like it were selling for online (£1500 whaaaaat??) I have been kicking myself right in the kneecaps for letting this beautiful bench slip out of my grasp. I would have taken a better picture of it, but I was just that confident I would be taking it home myself.

"Next time," I have told Forrest over and over, "Next time we will be prepared."

Oh, here's what we took home.