The wife and I went to another auction today.

All we brought home was a dead fish.

Really.

We almost didn't make the auction at all. Phone rang about 20 minutes before we were to leave. As soon as I answered, I knew we would be delayed.

Just over two hours later, the wife is finally off the phone. Having dressed and readied herself during the long-distance conversation. We arrive to find the auction is standing room only, and that the items the wife had scouted out had already been sold.

Craaap.

But the coffee was good ($1 for a bottomless mug, remember), and a few other things were of interest, so we stayed. The wife eventually managed to claim a place to sit on the shelf of carpeting, after the young man up there won his one item and left.

His one item was a box of little Golden books. They had close to 200 of these, in six lots. One buyer got them all, except the last box that went to this young man. Apparently he had to come home with at least one box of these. (They averaged about 50 cents a book for all six lots, which I'd guess is quite low.)

This auction was a combination of an estate sale and the closeouts of a gift shop and bed and breakfast. There were a ton of Barbie dolls, still unopened in their original boxes. Mainly holiday and nations of the world themes. Almost all went for only $25-30. Bid card #40, a husband and wife team with twin girls seated between them, bought at least three.

But the bed and breakfast goods brought most the attention, folks snatching up china, glassware and bedding at dirt-cheap prices. We stuck around for three hours of auction, without bidding, for one comforter that looked to be large enough for our bed. Hard to tell, though, in a vacuum-sealed bag.

Turns out "our" comforter was actually a sofa cover, once they opened it up. Craaap.

But hey, it was near the end of the bedding (and the auction) when they discovered my dead fish under some towels, so the time wasn't totally wasted.

A few winning bids...

The auctioneer's wife had to come into the room to watch the sale of a $2600 knitting machine.

For sixty-some dollars.

A perfectly fine, heavy duty de-humidifier, valued around $300, went for five bucks. And he practically had to beg to get that. But hey, when summer humidity rarely gets above 40 percent here, why would you need to take any out?

A dozen coyote stretchers (open wire frames shaped like ironing boards, used to stretch coyote skins as they dry) went for $55. Yet another steal for someone. Likewise for the nine Coni-bear traps and one leg-hold that went for $65.

An antique french fry cutter went for $27.50. I remember using one like that when we first started running the concessions stand at the county fair. A bitch to clean, and dangerous on the fingers.

Buying frozen fries in a bag is better.

A fellow in a suit on the far side of the room certainly looked out of place in our crowd. Turns out he was sticking around for bedding (king-sized only), dining room furniture, and television sets. I assume maybe he's setting up his own bed and breakfast.

But I have no idea why he paid over $30 for two boxes of used candles.

The Big Bird/Cookie Monster punching bag that came along with the box of flower pots he bought was handed over to the little boys who had been getting so bored in the back of the room, so if that's how he runs his business, his B&B might be the one you want to stay at.

When the huge crock was brought up to the block, the auctioneer immediately apologized. Apparently it had been advertized as 20 gallons in the paper.

"This is only a ten gallon crock," he explained, "so you'll have to fill it twice to get your twenty gallons."

Went for $135, one of the highest prices of the day, and was probably still a steal.

An umbrella stand made to look like a boot was described as being from a one-legged knight.

A friend came sidling up to me after the first couple hours, asking why there weren't any purchased items on my bid card (his wife was bidding pretty regular to stock the rooms they rent out to hunters every fall). Several items were sold, unwatched by us, as we visited. As another lot was announced as "Sold! To number 54!", his eyes opened wide.

"That number sounds familiar," he said, as he returned to sit next to his wife, who was trying to shrink in her chair.

And there he stayed for the rest of the auction.

#11, a regular who no longer has to pick up a bidder's card because they know his number, outbid the auctioneer's daughter on a matched set of bed linens. A few moments later she came back and asked if he would consider selling her the box of small towels that went with the sheets and pillowcases.

"No."

His answer was so abrupt, she actually took a half-step back.

He handed her the box, for free, and then turned back to the bidding.

A few minutes later he dug out one of his new pillows and handed it to his neighbor (#54) to sit on.

As usual, almost all the crowd rose and massed on the right side as the furniture was sold. Amidst the furniture was a pair of River Otters.

For those of you not in the know, "River Otter" is a brand name for a flotation device. Basically, two air-filled tubes with a board spanning in between them. Not the safest means of floating on water, and certainly not the most comfortable. But it was clear from the conversation that the young man and his mother next to us were interested in the River Otters.

Or, more accurately, he was.

As soon as the auctioneer started calling, the son was jabbing his mother in the back. Wisely, she held her tongue until the asking price dropped to ten dollars. Then, for every five dollars after that, the mother got another hard jab in the back to encourage her to bid.

Now, our boys were each bidding at auctions before they were four years old. Sometimes when we didn't want them to. But this twenty-year old was too shy to step forward. And no, he didn't win an otter.

But I bet his mother's back is sore.

Which may be why she quit bidding.

I watched the audience like a hawk early in the auction, before the wife copped her piece of carpet shelf, hoping for a couple seats to open. A young woman immediately in front of us left early, packing out three boxes of goods.

She left one.

A small box of plastic baby toys. And it sat there the entire rest of the auction, clearly abandoned. As we were leaving, having retrieved my dead fish and having not won the antique auctioneer's desk, the wife stopped to check out the box.

And found a bronze shoe on top. A toy, she thought, until she picked it up.

A real bronzed baby shoe. Further down in the box was it's mate.

One of those precious momentoes of a new life. Forgotten and sold.

And now abandoned.

Oh yeah, before I forget. A picture of my dead fish (which ebay suggests I paid too much for)...