Auction- A social event

One item on the social calendar that has been sadly lacking over the last couple of years of the COVID pandemic has been the local auction. Let’s face it; all those treasures you have stashed away may need to be recycled. Some probably haven’t seen the light of day for a decade or more. Time to bring them out again.

In early June at the Estate Auction of Stan and Linda Armstrong, a whole host of treasures collected over not only their lifetimes but of their parents and in-laws were in need of a new home…. And there were some real treasures.

Hopeful bidders by the hundreds poured down to the riverfront on the Worthinton-Dilke town line to drool over the collection on offer.

“Look at this. What on earth can it be?” wondered one curious soul as he pawed through a box of
treasures and came up with a contraption with and assortments of pulleys, clamps, and wires.

“Oh that’s a left-handed neutralizer thing-a-m-jig,” offered Tom Morrish, one of the District’s most faithful auction attendees.

“I first saw it sold at old Horvath’s sale back in, was that ’67 or ’68, and since then saw it at Stutvoet’s in ’74 and at three other consignments since… if I recollect,’ said Tom as he scratched his head trying to accurately relate the item’s history. Then things got messy as he slapped at the cloud of vicious mosquitoes, slopped his coffee on his wife Shirley and spattered mustard from the smokie he was waving at the same mosquitoes.

“Oh darn! Now I’ll have to go for a refill,” he said licking the mustard from his hand as he headed back to the canteen.

The crowd continued to mill around with greetings exchanged and items inspected. Cal was perched next to a collection of sledge hammers and CN crowbars. Wonder where Stan, an ex-CN roadbed crew worker, picked up those. No matter, no one’s going to out bid Cal on those when they come up wondered Jimmy McQ a noted antique iron collector in his own right.

The Rare an’ Tear segment of the crowd were poking around the lineup of four-wheeler ATVs, checking models, pulling on recoils, and wondering how much the “as is” specials would sell for.

“When are they coming up?” wondered Rip Van Snort as he ran the shifter on one unit through its

“Not until near the end of the sale. They’ll go for a primo price!” stated Evil Knievel, Hooterville’s own daredevil legend, as he checked his wallet counting his stash and wondering if he dared have another smokie or conserve the balance for a final bid.

“Hey Dad, could you spot me a couple hundred extra if I need it to top up my bid?” he whispered at the Bank of Mom & Dad.

At 10 a.m. sharp, auctioneer Telford Advent stepped up to the mic, and after a brief welcome opened the sale.

“What am I bid for this beautiful bassinet with a complete set of newborn clothing in pink and blue ideal for a couple expecting twins. Do I hear $20…20…20?”

Ben and Judy Brown who were still busy smiling, nodding, waving, and greeting neighbours hardly seen over the past couple of years, were really enjoying themselves. A friendly wave…

“Sold for $20! Right back there to the Browns! What’s your number Ben? Didn’t even know you were still expanding the clan!”

Ben helplessly knowing denial and protest would be futile, pulled out his bid number, shook his fist at the auctioneer, resolutely pulled down his hat and shoved his hands deep into his pockets.