Saturday January 8, 2005
|A nice mug of Java
No shopping today so, apart from my morning stroll along the lane and back again, I devoted the day to doing eBay stuff, following up sales, packing goods, and putting more stuff up to sell. A slow dial-up connection makes the whole thing more laborious than it ought to be but even so I’m happy with progress, and have earned rather more than a week’s State pension today, with more to come tomorrow.
All I set out to do with eBay was to make up for the drop in my pension I had to take when I ‘stopped’ being disabled and ‘started’ being an age pensioner. Well, I’m doing better than that, and only needing to spend one or two days a week on it.
I stretched back, having finished off the day by putting some McCoy pots and a book up for sale, rather more satisfied with myself than is good for me.
“You’re looking happy,” Graham said. “Finished for the day?”
“Yup. Time for a bit of telly now, I think…”
“‘Ere! Wots that?” he said looking over my shoulder at the computer monitor.
“It’s the American Art Pottery category listing,” I said. “Don’t my McCoy entries look neat?”
“No, not them,” he said, all impatient, like. “Isn’t that Fiesta Ware?”
“Well, yes. I’m not the only person in Britain trying to flog American stuff.”
“Can I have a look at that jug?”
“What, this one?”
“No. That one. The one with the plate.”
And there it was, me doing my best to sell, and him determined to buy. A rather fine Fiesta jug/pitcher in salmon pink, with a matching plate has been bought and paid for, and will, hopefully, be on its way to us on Monday.
I’ll be honest. I had my doubts about it. “After all,” I protested. “Here’s me busting a gut trying to unload stuff before we move house and now we’ve gone and collected more.”
“Perfectly valid point. Tell you what, I’ll go look out some bits I was planning to keep. That’ll make up for it.”
And, good as his word, he trotted off around the house and came back into the study with a handful of video tapes (the original three Star Wars movies, displaced by DVD versions) and a rather delightful Victorian planter, English, in green-glazed earthenware. The planter was a bit of a sacrifice because he’s always liked it.
“There,” he said. “That’ll more than make space, and probably cover the cost as well.”
“Fine. Put ’em on the shelf and I’ll list them tomorrow.”
They’ll sell, of course. Almost everything sells on eBay, even pre-owned video tapes. The Victorian pot will do better than just sell, I suspect. I have a bit of a buzz about it. I’m beginning to feel an instinct for these things.
“Now can I sit down and watch some telly?” I asked.
“Oh, I think so,” he said. “Not only that but I’ll get you a mug of coffee. Italian?”
“No,” I said. “I think I’ll go for Javan. Something with a kick in it.”
“You got it,” he said.
And I do, really, I suppose. Get it, I mean.