All my life, as down an abyss without a bottom,
I have been pouring vanloads of information
into that vacancy of oblivion I call my mind.
Logan Pearsall Smith
With one auction under our belt that early Saturday morning we pulled up and parked at yet another farm auction. The doors of the truck opened and My Hero and Dios headed in one direction and I in the other, looking for those treasures that were waiting to be discovered.
My Hero once again was talking about ladders on the drive over and I immediately thought to myself, Oh no, not again. I know Dios was thinking the very same thing, I could see him smiling. I am not sure but I think I saw My Hero wink at Dios. I should have read that auction listing, this may be a joke but I never know for sure. In my world it is truly a sign of spring when ladders are bid on to climb to the top of the barn to fix the roof and are selling at auctions around here for this Hero of mine who is still waiting to buy one that reaches much higher. I shiver just thinking about that.
This incredible red barn caught and held my attention it was the most beautiful shade of red; it appeared to be newly painted and had not faded. This barn love thing will never disappear.
I found myself thinking about how this would be the perfect shade of red for our barn back home. Just picturing that antique white wedding dress, a black tuxedo with this shade of red coloured barn standing behind, I believe it would be a recipe for incredibly beautiful wedding photographs for that day that seems to be coming rather quickly now.
Our barn is actually a nice shade of pink now. Long ago it was once a gorgeous red shade that faded quickly not so very long after it was painted, leaving us wondering how we could have ever believed a man with a very long ladder and a sprayer tied to the back of his truck making promises that sounded too good to be true. Lessons were learned, but now and no longer as trusting, our barn still remains pink.
Our pinkish barn pales in comparison to this lovely shade of red barn but I do know the bride will not care, it has been that faded pink colour since she was a little girl. It will always remain home for her, holding all those memories wrapped up tight and kept safe behind those faded doors. It will be perfect.
While sitting on an old beam with my feet resting on a rock, a pen and paper in my hand I felt very comfortable much like home back on the rock in the bush. If it was not for the speakers echoing numbers and the odd word SOLD along with all that chatter of the happy people behind me frantically bidding I would be able to believe I was at home and not at another auction. I love auctions they feel as comfortable as being home for me now. My pen was flowing over the paper when I heard a woman’s voice “Is your hand getting tired?” I looked up.
A nice woman with a friendly smile was looking back; No I find writing very relaxing “What are you writing?” I explained to her that I was a Blogger, (in my experience not all consider that a "real writer" they are wrong by the way). I explained I was writing a story about this auction. She apologized for interrupting me and I reassured her I was so happy she did. I gave her my Blog address and thanked her for asking. She walked away with her husband and I found myself wondering if he was also looking for a long ladder, which after a quick search I did find out there were none, guess that ladder joke was on me, once again.
After she left I sat there for a moment wondering what I would possibly think if I came upon an, I am going to call it “eccentric” woman wearing bright Pink Cadillac (aka Muck) Boots sitting on an old beam with her feet resting on a rock wearing a homemade knitted brown hat who was completely oblivious to her surroundings frantically writing her thoughts down on paper. Would I approach her?
I decided I would probably have walked up to her and asked what she was writing too. You do meet the nicest friends at auctions.
Would you have approached that “eccentric” woman, or just walked away and left to wonder?