On Auctions

Last night we dined at Sally's house. I don't know if you feel this way, but for me, there is something especially nourishing to the soul about being in a house where art is everywhere: stacked against the hallway walls, propped up by bookshelves, leaping to the eye from every nook and cranny.

Sal's house is like that, and I really love being there. Thank you, Sal, for providing a beautiful, convivial environment, and also for delicious beany goodness!

We served ourselves the fabulous Alix salad with salad tongs from Sal's childhood, lit by candles in beautiful perfect Art Nouveau candlesticks, silver and engraved with swirling vines and flowers. They could have lit the tables of Rivendell.

The women wolfed down the cabbage before the men made it to the table. Sorry, men!

We all mourned the loss of Indie (see previous post), 13-year companion of Craig. Craig noticed that tupper supper is the only place he didn't always have her with him, so there was a bit of relief from the sense of always wondering where she was, and then remembering.

Somehow, our talk turned to auctions. Highlights I remember -- and please, add your own! -- include:

• The Gage Auction last weekend brought in $90,000 gross -- yay Craig! Though it was an oddly lackluster auction, for reasons impossible to determine. Auctioning experiences instead of material things, we decided, is highly problematic.
  
• We learned of Karen, a Development Manager at Michelle's agency who didn't actually do anything, but who referred a Bothell City Councilmember to the "I see dead people" counselor.
• We remembered Andrew's turn as Wilfred Owen at an RHH auction, when he furiously outbid himself.
• We counted the number of board and staff hours required to put on any sort of auction at all
• We spoke of alternatives to auctions -- suggesting that members pay the agency NOT to have an auction. Or, perhaps, a white elephant exchange -- the agency takes unwanted objects from members -- for a price.

In other news, Sally had not yet heard back about Mark's interview with FW DeKlerk, which sounded fascinating, but promises to share highlights eventually. Kathleen spent the morning watching a heron defend his nest from all challengers. Alix was suffering from post-event exhaustion and really just wanted to put a blanket over her head and go to sleep.

Blessings, all,

Jan