THEPOINTOFTHESALE…
THEPOINTOFTHESALE…
WE live in a pleasant neighbourhood and community spirit is good in our village.
Although I say "our" village, we dont live in it – we are of its parish – so it is "our" church, "our" village hall, "our" shop (until it closed) and, for my husband, where he went to school.
It is also where we were married and our children were baptised. My grandparents were married there and many of my ancestors are buried there, as we will probably be.
Yes, its our village and we are raising money for the church – well, lets face it, we nearly always are. It is a necessity with an old building like this, which has stood since Edward I was a lad. It has seen some action in its time, I shouldnt wonder – being a mere half mile from the Welsh border. A marauding bunch were the Welsh in those days, we have a strong defensive tower to prove it!
This was once a collegiate church associated with the nearby monastery, and the monks were no angels, if all I have read is true. Then there was "old parr"- the oldest man who ever lived – who did penance here, when in his 80s, for adultery, he died eventually aged 152 years.
My great grandmother was a long lived lady – and was buried here aged 100 years. Were a tough lot, we have to be, to worship here. The church is lofty and therefore difficult to heat, at present we face another winter of inadequate heating equipment. Were agile too, and can cross our legs with the best of them – as we have no loo either! These are the reasons we are fund raising – new heating and a wc but because this is a church, it involves faculties and architects etc and a great deal of money.
We decided to hold an "attic sale" as part of the campaign, a 60:40 auction and appealed for goods to sell. The day arrived – but would the goods? Would anyone come?
* Assortment
They came, bringing an assortment of items, and tenderly handed over their treasures, often harboured for years, without a thought – but now, when faced with parting from them, reminiscences emerged of when each was used and by whom.
Happier days and sadder ones and often hard work recalled, then they left refreshed, cleansed and lighter, to begin life again without the baggage and clutter of old memories. And we who were left with them, temporarily, admired, wondered and accepted other peoples hordes. Grateful for the time and trouble taken to search out unwanted items.
These goods were logged, tagged and numbered. What an interesting hall-full they produced. Chairs and tables, beds and buckets, china and videos, bric-a-brac and fireplaces (no kitchen sink, I noticed!). Treasures, antiques and junk, other peoples memories.
Will anyone come to view, bid and buy? We wondered. We beavered away all afternoon making sense of our bounty, until finally as we finished, the punters arrived. Poised and primed the "porters" checked all was lotted and ready. In the kitchen, baps were filled and tea brewed. Behind the bar, mine host was prepared for action. Momentary panic until the auctioneer arrived, he is more accustomed to Smithfield than showroom, but valiantly checked details and it was on with the sale.
Slow at first, but eventually everything sold and a good profit resulted, and what did I buy, you may wonder, when it came to the point? Well, actually I had some real bargains for our holiday cottage – there was this loo (such a pretty blue) and a super electric fire, with convector (so quick to heat a chilly room). Now, I wonder …? If only we could … oh and a pile of books, one of which contained this profound quotation:- "Castles in the air – often built by architects and demolished by accountants," – ironically that was the absolute point of the sale! *
Mary Powell