Above are three English saddles I bought at an antique store in Morrisville this week,being investigated a little by Maisy. I paid $60 for the lot, which felt like a bargain to me because, my gosh, they're leather and someone in Argentina must have had a job of work to make them. Of course, I am leaving aside the fact that I don't ride horses, nor does anyone in my family. Allow me to digress on this point for a moment...
I have actually resolved not to ride horses, nor to allow anyone in my family to develop an interest therein. Of course horses are gorgeous and I am connected with some lovely horse-riding people. I have noticed,however, that horses are sort of like the Sun (or at least Jupiter) in the lives of these people. They are massive, gravity-creating entities around which their owners seem forced to orbit. Everyone I know who has horses spends more money on them than they do on their mortgages. They all seem happy enough to revolve around their horses and to pay for the privilege but I am not going there - despite the fact that we own lots of land and I have a 12-year-old daughter... She can put one of these saddles on a saw horse and pretend, for free. Until I sell the saddles of course.
I bought these, as you have probably figured out by now, with the purpose of reselling them at what I hope might be a small profit. I have decided (and you knew this was coming if you've been following along), to make a foray into the world of commerce. This will, I hope, take the shape of a booth at the upcoming "British Invasion" car show in Stowe this September.
Maybe I'll take a cue from the London street hawkers of yore and develop a cry for my wares (you know, along the "cockles! mussels! hot chestnuts! scissors sharpened!" variety). Since I plan to sell all manner of items, mostly the English dishes and books and pictures - and saddles - that I can't seem to resist, this call will take some time to work out. I am open to suggestions. If you get to Stowe Sept. 17-19 this year, look for me and the kids under the blue and white striped pop-up shelter called (I have ordered a banner) "It's Splendid. I'll Take It!"
I am still awaiting approval for my booth from the event organizers but I have sent them my check and I think they'll let me in, even though I am not selling car-themed stuff. I am afraid this may mean that the kids and I will be lonely at our booth but we're all kind of excited about venturing forth. I may require Shackleton to dress like the Artful Dodger and drag the car people over to buy a teacup. I don't know...
Three Little Words
I have been thinking lately of the power of three-word descriptions to sum people up.
I was reading a little booklet on English Architectural Drawings of the 1930s, something produced in conjunction with a show on the subject in London during the 1980s, and the author of the beautifully written forward referred to someone as an "antic Cambridge don."
Hmm, I thought. This is sort of like Haiku. Let's think, what three words would nail me? I can't hope for "antic Cambridge don." Maybe, "sour-mouth bi__ch"? Sometimes that would be fair. "Past-it writer manque?" (I count that as three words because hyphenated words count as one - sorry about the missing accent). Perhaps this seems too harsh. I'll keep thinking. Why not try this out on yourself. It's not a bad exercise for a Sunday when we should all do a little reflecting.
I have been occupied these last few weekends with planning work on "It's Splendid" and will be continue to be so for the next few weekends to come. This is one reason the old Blog has languished. Thanks to those of you who have continued to drop by. I send best wishes to you to enjoy what's left of summer.
