AUCTION IS LIVE

Hi Everyone — the sale is here and is now posted online. I hope you have the chance to look at it. The pictures are well done. It is fun to share these items with you since we could not do it here at my home. Please pass this notice to anyone you think might be interested. And for all of you who were wondering what this process would be like………we are about to find out.

Starting 25 May at 2AM, there will be HUGE sale of Kilm rugs, hand knotted, hand woven fine Iranian rugs, silver, African masks and artifacts, and Middle Eastern Bedouin art. Also included are artifacts including original Iraqi art, coffee pots, oil burners, masks and more. These are original pieces, Anna Karola, collected during her twenty years working internationally in Kuwait, Qatar, Chad, South Africa, and Rwanda. For the most part these are unique, one of a kind pieces, not to be seen again. These pieces were mostly bought prior to 1999 and many are antiques older than one hundred years.

Come and browse starting May 25th at www.ebth.com Search under Harrisonburg, VA. Come one, come all — don’t miss out on this sale. If you have ever admired anything from my collection, now is the time to take advantage of obtaining it for yourself.

Only TEN more days till auction time

It is only ten more days until the auction arrives. There will be over 20 rugs from Iran, Afghanistan and other ports. OLD handmade beads from northern Africa in addition to prehistoric pots and stones. There is jewelry from Oman, Jordan other parts of the Middle East and Africa as well as  OLD Turkish and Arabian coffee pots. That is not all — you will also find loads of art from both contemporary and Middle Eastern artists. I am embarrassed, as the more I find, the more I find. So even if you are not buying, come and look at what I managed to collect over the past twenty years and, almost all of it has a story to go with it. I will post specific directions to find this online auction but it is at:

www.EBTH.com and enter Harrisonburg, VA in the search column. But remember, the auction does NOT start until the 25th of May.

And, as soon as I dig out for this happening, I will be back with regular blogs. It is truly hard to keep my thinking straight while buried in objects…….

still voyaging

I have discovered it is nearly impossible for me to be organized and creative when my home looks like a disaster zone. I made the decision some months ago to downsize. I thin let the universe know this was needed, as I had forgotten I would prefer to work for myself one day (more on this later). So the universe took me at my word and I found myself given the opportunity.

I had tried selling my things on my own. I have a wonderful collection of rugs, old beads, coffee pots, paintings, and other artifacts form the Middle East and Africa. I accumulated these things from living twenty years overseas, and they have given me great joy. But I knew it was time to pass them on to other people to love. So, through a friend, I found a company called “Everything But the House.” They have come in to my life,  and are helping me divest of all the wonderful items, that truly have brought me many hours of joy.

I had found it very disheartening to try to sell on my own. Rugs I had brought from Kuwait, and had wonderful memories with them, had dealers telling me they were from China. These are hand-made, hand-knotted rugs and I am told they are from China. I had another dealer become very upset with me because I would not give him my home address and location of my house. And when I have tried to sell things online, the pictures were wrong, not clear, and generally I could not get it right. After much frustration, the process of an online auction appears to be a bit of a miracle.

Everyone seems to feel this process is hard for me. I have garnered much sympathy and people feel “bad” for me. Actually, I feel a bit guilty as it is worse for them, than for me. I am feeling a sense of relief unknowing my possessions will be going to other homes and to people who can care for them. I am also overwhelmed at how much “stuff” I do have. Even with clearing out everything, I will still have more to divest.

And, I admit to a sense of excitement to see what is coming and to thinking perhaps it is time to move onto changing other things.

In honor of fairy godchildren

It is hard to believe seventeen years have passed. There was a secretary at the university, where I did my graduate work, who became a grandmother. She is an amazing woman, who helped keep me together during some of my more emotional years. She is a woman who always greets you with a smile and, whether or not it is true, convinces you that your arrival is the best thing in her day. And now, she had become a grandmother. We had been friends since I worked on my master’s at the school, and we always kept in touch through email. Her emails brought warm feelings of home and comfort as I worked in lands that were strange to me.

I was in Majorca the summer that the baby was born where there were beautiful handmade baby clothes and a little stuffed rabbit. I had fun purchasing these items and especially the rabbit. Joanne told her granddaughter, these gifts were from her fairy godmother and so, the tale began. Fairy godmother! It was a captivating idea and, I loved the concept. Whenever I lived in or traveled to various countries, I would send things to Rowan. I would bring little leather bags or zippered purses or other small things. Her grandmother would write me emails of how much Rowan enjoyed these little gifts. Each one was a treasure for her. These items and how they came from her fairy godmother became the topic of many “show and tell” times in school. It brought me great pleasure to know, I was a topic in a first grader’s class, and somehow important to her. To me, this was and remains one of the important achievements in my life.

Other children would try to convince Rowan there was no fairy godmother, and she would show them what I sent as proof of my existence. Once her grandmother and I decided it was time for me to meet Rowan. She asked Rowan what she thought her fairy godmother looked like. Well, said young Rowan, quite emphatically, this fairy godmother was tall, had long black hair, wore a long sparkly blue gown, and carried a wand. I decided to allow Rowan her dreams and, not introduce myself to her, just yet.

Her Grandmother was very important in keeping these illusions alive. Joanne loves Winnie the Pooh, and “believes” in fairies, and Easter is her favorite holiday, because she loves chocolate so much. She would take Rowan shopping to select little gifts for her fairy godmother. These little packages would be sent to me when I was in Kuwait and Qatar, and when I received them; they brought many hours of joy. I still have some of them. Rowan was very worried I did not see snow, so, she sent me a stuffed snowman (which I still have), snow shaped glitter (which I still have) and a package of tissue with snowflake prints (which I finally am using, but only recently). Rowan sent me thank you notes, (which I still have – framed).

Her grandmother would take Rowan to the post office to mail these precious boxes. The post lady would see these strange addresses in Kuwait and ask who lived there. Rowan would reply, “my fairy godmother, of course. Don’t you know that is where fairy godmothers live?!?” Kuwait, or Qatar or in some other exotic place, I happened to be in at the time, was the magical kingdom where fairy godmothers lived. A bond between us grew, and grew, and as I watched, this child grew, and now has become a woman. Only once did we meet and only for a brief time. On that day we played in a butterfly garden and sat very still to allow these bright little creatures to land on us. Now, she is passing the first important milestone of graduating high school and attending college.

She has grown into a beautiful young woman but more importantly she has developed compassion and an awareness of the world around her. I look at her pictures and I hear her stories and I am proud of her. I see a young woman whose parents and grandparents have provided her with a solid foundation allowing her and encouraging her to face the future with excitement for new adventures. They have given her what all children need. They have provided her with a belief in herself and the limitless possibilities of the future. Hopefully her grandmother and I have nourished a belief in the reality of magic.

 

 

HEAR YE HEAR YE the sale of the century

Starting 25 May at 2AM, there will be HUGE sale of Kilm rugs, hand knotted, hand woven fine Iranian rugs, silver, African masks and artifacts, and Middle Eastern Bedouin art. Also included are artifacts including original Iraqi art, coffee pots, oil burners, masks and more. These are original pieces, Anna Karola, collected during her twenty years working internationally in Kuwait, Qatar, Chad, South Africa, and Rwanda. For the most part these are unique, one of a kind pieces, not to be seen again. These pieces were mostly bought prior to 1999 and many are antiques older than one hundred years.

Come and browse starting May 25th at www.ebth.com Search under Washington, DC, and then under Harrisonburg, VA. Come one, come all — don’t miss out on this sale. If you have ever admired anything from Anna’s collection, now is the time to take advantage of obtaining it for yourself.
 
EVERYTHING BUT THE HOUSE (EBTH) is a premier online personal property and estate sale service provider at EBTH.com

a guest blogger

My friend, Jay Kendall, just recently published his second book, Flypaper Dreams. In honor of this significant accomplishment, I asked him to write a memory for this blog. He has an interesting sense of humor and I admit, every time I read this piece, I laugh. I love the visual images created.

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Thoughtfulness is a virtue I inherited from my father. Probably around 1920, on one warm summer Sunday, my father was a child attending morning services with his mother—and probably his brothers and sisters as well. Seated directly in front of him was a neighbor lady about the same age as his mother. This gentle, soft spoken woman was rather heavy set, like his mother, but with an even more generously endowed posterior. And something unusual about that sizable rump captured the boy’s complete attention at the conclusion of the sermon when the congregation rose to sing a hymn.

The neighbor lady hadn’t worn a slip under her light summer dress, and while the pastor was speaking, her dress had managed to wedge itself into the upper reaches of her great butt crack. The boy had a sense of the delicate nature of the situation and, wishing to spare this kind woman from embarrassment, he decided to act upon his generous impulse. Doing his best not to call any attention to himself, he reached forward, pinched the material firmly between thumb and finger, and slowly and very carefully extricated the expanse of captured fabric from the grip of those ample butt cheeks.

His mission accomplished, he felt pleased with his good deed, but his pleasure was short lived. Though the neighbor lady hadn’t turned around, the sharp poke and the severe look of shock and reproof on his mother’s face was ample evidence she was horrified and incredibly offended by what her son had just done. Something she’d been too late to prevent, and now was embarrassed to think who else might have seen.

The boy knew that being in church was the only thing that kept his mother from giving him greater proof of her displeasure. But he really hadn’t meant to be bad, and now he felt terrible to think he’d done a shameful thing. He earnestly wished he could right this wrong and relieve his mother’s obvious distress. So during the next verse of the song, he very slowly and carefully poked the neighbor lady’s light summer dress all the way back up into that substantial crevice.

Whatever she felt or thought, the neighbor lady appeared to have taken no notice of the boy’s attentions. But you can imagine how pleased his mother was when he nudged her, calling attention to the fact that she didn’t need to be upset anymore. Everything was all right now, and she could relax, because he’d put everything back just the way it was.

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Flypaper Dreams by Jay Kendall (reviewed by me :-)) Recovering from one’s childhood is never easy and the protagonist of this story Zak has a challenging but an amazing time. This is a novel that most definitely held my interest. I particularly appreciated the character development in the story and the interplay between them. I started the book in the morning and found I kept reading until I finished. Parts brought flashbacks and caused me to re-evaluate my own past and to change my own perspective. The story moved at a good pace, never causing my interest to lag. It is an excellent piece, well written and well worth reading. I look forward to Jay Kendall’s future novels.