In which Blog Fodder buys useless tat… at least it was cheap.
One of the great things about spending the day at home is all those antique programmes you get to watch – Flog It, Bargain Hunt etc.
If only I had the time …
I did manage to do the next best thing though – visit a real auction and try to spend real money.
In Jersey normal standards don’t apply.
Where else can you buy a Porsche for £150? Only 35,000 miles on the clock as well.
Mind you it was more than 30 years old which tells you something about motoring on an island nine miles by five miles, where the maximum speed limit is 40mph.
And how about the upright piano which didn’t find a bidder, even at £5, despite the fact that it was nicely in tune? If only we hadn’t lugged ours with us, all the way across the Channel.
The crazy thing was the matching piano stool made £30.
But bags of potatoes were hitting record prices – £8 a time, despite the fact none of them were Jersey Royals.
I did try to buy a couple of nice prints featuring local scenes, but I was out of luck.
Guess who outbid me. Yup, it was Lovejoy. Though not the Ian McShane version, this was Jersey’s own loveable rogue.
The article said his shop had been overwhelmed by five feet of flood water. Luckily it was only five inches.
Either way, despite the remorseless progress towards metrication it seems that floodwater will always come in Imperial measures, which seems only right for an act of God – although presumably He still uses palms and cubits.
Strictly speaking, if we’re talking liquid measures, the biblical unit is a homer – which, according to the American Biblical Society, is equivalent to 10 baths.
One of the nice things about coming to Jersey is that you can pay for your auction items in nice crisp one pound notes. Though they can give you a false sense of security – they’re easily mistaken for UK fivers, by me, not by canny retailers.
I did manage to part with some of my Jersey notes – not to be confused with the Jersey Pound which according to Wikipedia is
an obsolete unit of mass used on the island from the 14th to the 19th century, and was equivalent to about 7,561 grains
I picked up a bakelite phone which doesn’t work, two scooters that are too small for the children and a gilt-framed mirror which despite its age is distressingly honest.
Not such a success with Beta Mum as last week’s rusty tandem.
Where’s David Dickinson when you need him?
But then again I’m not really interested in the bronze age.