Tuesday, April 26, 2016

(Yankee) Hoarding - Part Seven - "Promised Land"

(Yankee) Hoarding

Part Seven

"Promised Land"

            Summarial Hoard... and I.
            Hope that it has been useful to open and expand the vantage of hoard and carry that expansion over to hoarding and hoarder.  And... carrying this too... to the hoardettes’ finger pointing and witch hunting hoard precept... to demonstrate THAT hoard view... without even a slight suggestion that one alters this last (hoardette view) hoard
Vision plight.  Too.
            No I do not want an adopted crowd forming at now recognized to be vital and/or mature hoard sites especially foisting an “I know” aura upon that site.
            No.  Just stay in the tacky world of finger pointing at hoard horror.  Drop the ‘Yankee’.  Move out West (west of the Hudson River corridor).  Clean the garage.  Out.  (There is nothing in there that is ‘good’).  Then go away.  I will promise to personally professionally be ‘one of hoard’ in your behalf.  One... is done.

            What if a (Yankee) hoard hoarded ‘old clocks’ (“timepieces”)?  Would that?  No.  It would not.  If their alarms all went bong, bong, bong at once would that?  No.  A stupid dance like the car going beep, beep, beep when the key is turned.  If one found fifty-seven old timepieces gathered by one old man quietly over a very fifty-seven years with each stored in its own crude protective box to preserve each timepiece in its ‘as found’ state for the only reason that it assured the hoard that each component of the hoard was carefully included; fairly included; ‘equal to the others’.  This would be a problem right from a ‘get-go’:  “What do ... DO with them”.  A ‘this hoard’?  And one would not think of calling on anyone who would know.  Anyway.  “WHAT is there to THINK ABOUT?  Cleaning up a MESS?”
            That is okay
            As long as one goes

            I get to a (all) hoard before the ‘you do’.  I know hoard.  Good hoard.  “Well”.  I get there first.  All the time.  “Boxes of clocks”.  That is an accurate hoard description presented by a hoardette who hastens to ‘clean out’.  “Them” she called... them:  To clean out them, a physical action based on mental evaluation... of a hoard.  “Fine”.  If the whole had been neatly ‘fixed-up’ (restored) and wall hung tick-tocking.  Bonging.  In the front hall, living room, dining room and... the other rooms of responsible (sterile) domestic management, let me say... ‘a different story’.  Yes.  Just nod.  “Yes”.
            These boxed clocks were “stored” (stuffed) all over the outer borderlands of the property.  Each box shut up tight; a ‘put in’ ‘old clock’ and ‘never looked at again’.  I found it a very exciting

            I did not count the boxes of boxed up old clocks until I stored the full hoard in a section of a warehouse and... sort of had the time to do that to ‘them’.  Before that was too hectic.  Fussy... the family was about ‘getting the house ready’.  For what?  Who cares what idiots do.  Right?  Just nod.  I had to “do” the rest of the hoard too.  What?  You think there was only one hoard in there?  Do you see (understand)?  It is going to be a while before you can do hoard well... too.  I don’t expect you to show up.  I do expect you to be ‘cleaning out’ badly for the rest of your life.  Bricklaying?
            Sort of.  Right?  Hoard is a sort of bricklaying.  You know:  Like making a patio.  With this including “good job” and... “bad job”.

            The vast majority of hoard never makes it to ‘bad job’ or ... ‘good job’ “clean out”.  In most cases good... very good and “GREAT” hoard is not identified as, even, being hoard.  For example, on property ‘walk through’ tours, I am often shown a “collection”.  In most cases this would pass toward ‘accumulation’ and never come near a ‘collection’.  Behind ‘accumulation’ is the safer... border land:  Hoard.  What ever it is (‘old clocks in boxes’, for example)... it is... actually.... hoard.  Is it good hoard... or bad hoard?  Grand hoard or piss poor hoard?  Yes... girls... skip rope and... skip rope with the girls?  Boys?  This is why one is not there.  To be of ‘go away’ is the easiest hoard solution.  Yes; “cool” and “pretty much of a problem” isn’t it; ‘hoard’?

            Have I gummed this all up for you?  Or have I suggested and shown that (Yankee) hoard is one of the grand treasures; alternative asset allocations, of old New England?  And do I care what you ‘think’... about (Yankee) hoard.
            Well... for the last I don’t.  My ‘nose’ for hoard has me scampering around the (Yankee) borderlands perpetually (an inexhaustible supply of hoard).  And, simply, no one is there except the those-of-one-with-hoard and
            The confused... hands thrown up in despair... maelstrom trapped hoard swirl ‘victims’ of ‘hoard’.  Yes:  There we go... ‘victims’ of ‘hoard’.  In Yankee New England.  That makes everyone feel better about (Yankee) hoarding:  Victims.
            If this force has its way... all of the old worn ‘wide board’ pine floors of (Yankee) New England... will be sanded.
            And shown off.
            All after “THE PLACE” is “CLEANED OUT” (“You wouldn’t BELIEVE what it was LIKE in there.”).  It was a good thing I moved all of those fifty-seven boxed up old clocks out of that ‘place’.  I, removing hoard, rescued ...victims.  The place was cleaned out.  The floors have been sanded
            And shown off.
            I was invited on a ‘house tour’ “TO SEE”.
            I didn’t go.

            I have written... in this blog... two long stories about hoard... with these stories never mentioning hoard or I... ever saying ‘hoard’.  They are both vast stories recording singular work (antiques dealing / rare book dealing) events that I actually did AND consider these to be... representative enough... to make a point of
            Being worthy to be told?
            Did I make a mistake doing that; recording the tales?  Not really
            I guess.  Who cares?  Right?
            This last is particularly adroit when one such as I confounds that this (Yankee) hoarding will never be ‘made out’ anyway.  Your in-battle (hoard battle) will never take place.  You will attend no hoard war.  No fight on the front line of a ‘big one’ (a Yankee warship of multiple layered hoard).  You will not be the ‘broom clean’ at the ‘empty’ end.

            In the first story; “The Crows Nest” (44 chapters/posts), the hoard is antiques with multiple hoard... multiple hoard locations, settings and ... multiple hoard ‘alternative asset allocation’ managers.  (Yankee) hoard interweaves with (Yankee) hoard.  It lives, it moves, in (Yankee) New England.  The story is about very large moving hoards; almost too big to be discerned as hoard.  But that is what all of ...it... is; hoards.
            The second story; “Can B. Worth” (37 chapters/posts), is a ‘rare book’ story that is an ‘inside hoard’ vantage.  “He dies in his hoard”.  For real.  It is a story about hoard and it’s fight against the ‘sanded floor’ people... from the inside hoard vantage.  Again this tale is, too, ‘almost to big to be discerned as hoard’.  But it is that: (Yankee) hoard.
            At first contact with the hoards of these tales, and through my whole relationship, I understood these ‘tales’ are (Yankee) hoard.  By the time I arrived at the hoards in the tales... I knew hoard very well.  For an example of my formative exposure to hoard, I suggest the much less cumbersome story; “The Codman Place” (7 chapters/posts).  That is a splendid story of how I came to hoard; the many hoards ‘in there’ and the nuance of each hoard... from when I was very young at this (Yankee) hoard.   Too.

            For the final closure, it should be obvious... but I must speak of it:  Yes I am a hoarder.  That is... I am ‘of hoard’.  Particularly... ‘of (Yankee) hoard’.  And I am very good at it.  Well practiced.  So well practiced that one would ‘never know’.  And that is the way it is supposed to be; the way (Yankee) hoarding... is.  I live in hoard.  I will die in hoard.  The ‘sanded floor’ people are the enemy.  They are of little consequence... except to themselves, of course.  That ‘they’ have closed out ‘hoard’.  Themselves.  “Sterile” visions is a ‘their best’.  No fifteen years of old seed packages for they have no (messy-self made) garden.  No hoard of shoes because the... accumulation... of their shoes are ‘too cheap’ (of quality and cost... in addition to, too, NOT being ‘Yankee footwear’) to be worthy of the title ‘hoard’.  It is a sad omen when one cannot even accomplish a hoard of shoes.  But that is the way those (“new New England”) people like it; sand the floors then varnish them.
            Admire them.

Tuesday, April 19, 2016


            One drawer

            One drawer
            Sewing stand.

            Two drawer
            (Sewing) stand.

            (American Federal)
            (Straight taper leg)
            One drawer (Two drawer)
            (Sewing) stand.

            (American Federal, Sheraton, Empire, Transitional
            Or Victorian
            (Turned leg)
            One drawer (two drawer)
            (Sewing) stand.

            “From my grandmother’s
            I believe
            Had several more.
            I don’t know what happened to

            “In her house
            I believe
            She always had
            (Several) more of those
            Tables (‘little tables’)
            Around.  Didn’t she?
            I cannot remember but:

            I know
            They are not tables
            They are
            One drawer

            They stand
            In old New England.
            They stand
            In old New England
            Homes waiting
            On the dead great
            Grandmother’s sewing
            Still in the drawer
            Of her
            One (two) drawer
            Stand she
            Had beside her chair when
            My mother was a
            Little girl.
            Her grandmother would look up
            From her sewing stand;
            Its drawer(s) pulled open.
            Each evening by
            Candlelight she
            Sewed there
            In her chair.

            “What ever became of that?”

            I used to be able talk to a women but something happened and she moved out to an island off the coast.  Or something like that.  She had a ‘table’; “my little table”
            “Why do you always want that?” she’d say.  “My little table”.
            I never told her why.  It was (is) a New England (Maine) made Maplewood two drawer finely lathe turned Sheraton leg (so ‘fine’ that “the edge of a dime” shows if slipped under the bottom of a foot) with its original and intended rosewood grain painted surface with old shellac surface solid bird’s eye maple drawer fronts and... its original English stamped brass ring rosette (drawer) pulls (“knobs”) with, too,
            Her sewing
            In the drawers.
            These drawers were always ‘pulled’... sort of... ‘open’.

            No one ever bothers me about these old stands.  They have nothing to do with me anyway.  Beside I noticing them.  And knowing them (a ‘good one’).  I would never tell anyone that I “look for them”.  No:  I wouldn’t ever do that.  Would I.  I would never want anyone to know what a ‘good one’ is.  Would I.  No.  They are just “that little table... over there... too.  I’d like that too”.  Kind of attention ‘to that’:
            An old New England one drawer (two drawer) (sewing) “STAND”.
            “That was my mother’s”
They always say
            When I say
            “I want that too.”
            And start to
            Carry it

            I have a funny little thing about that; the ‘carry it away’.  I have these supple soft nylon cords neatly rolled behind the seat of the truck that would ...never ever scratch the surface of an
            Old New England one drawer sewing stand that I use to
            Tie it off
            To make sure the drawer
            Doesn’t fall out
            On the driveway
            And smash.

            No.  A lot of the time I am the first person to “TAKE” the little table; an
            Old New England one drawer sewing stand
            Out of the old New England home... ever since
            That ‘table’
            Came into the house... except, of course, for
            The few times
            On hot August evenings when ‘one of the family’
            Carried it out “won’t you please”
And set it next to (great) Grandmother’s (porch rocking) chair
             For “her”
            Yes... of course there is that.  Sometimes they didn’t take it back inside
            Until the next morning.
            It (the old New England one drawer sewing stand) was
            Out all night.
            If I’d known that I’d of come by and made off with it.
            I’d pick it up with my hand under the front drawer rail and
            Push my thumb on the drawer front
            So that drawer would not fall out
            And smash on the sidewalk.  

            I’ve carried a lot of them off that way
            Over the years.
            Do you really want me to talk to you about this?
            It is a very private little world
            In the old New England home.  When I take the old sewing stands out
            Of there
            For the first time they have ‘ever’
            I know it.
            I know exactly what I’m doing in addition to
            Knowing exactly
            “How good that stand is”.
            “That’s a NICE little TABLE.”
            One woman said to me once
            When I was loading a stand I’d just bought into the truck.
            Another woman, after selling her family’s stand to me, said, over and over
            “Good-bye little stand, good-bye.”
            While I carried it out
            Of her home.

Friday, April 15, 2016

(Yankee) Hoarding - Part Six (B) - "Alternative Asset Allocation Management"

(Yankee) Hoarding

Part Six (B)

"Alternative Asset Allocation Management"

            “This is not appearing to be the way I think it is.”  A ‘review’ at this opening... is needed?  Yes it is for... for most little league antiquarians, who fancy ‘I am a picker’, the discern of mounded ‘hoard’ compliant with the ‘there be a hoarder hoarding nearby’ scat dropping identification... is hardly... compliant... with the propositions that the ‘this hoard’ is a conscious developed scat site AND be... too... a sort of financial wizardry; an ‘alternative asset... of allocated funds... perpetually tweaked (‘managed’).  Yes it is much easier to simply attend the ‘antiques show’ and ‘fit’ the ‘small table I like’ into
            What is it you do with antiques?

            Well... What you do is not the same as a (good-at-it) (Yankee) hoarder does (do) ‘with antiques’.  And the science of this (Yankee) hoard... is not for you anyway.  You are not a hoarder.  I promise.  It will take you “YEARS” to ‘get good at that’ (be a ‘knowing’ hoarder).  As for setting this up as some sort of private equity risk speculation as a (hedge?) fund of... “IS HOARD A LIQUID ASSET?”
            There’s a question for you.
            Answer it:  What do you think?
            I recommend you don’t think but... FEEL:  What do you FEEL.
            Look at the hoard.  Is it possible that... found... on the ground... this mound... hoards real treasure?  And that THAT is for the hoarder hoarding to know and, appropriately, for you to NOT... with ‘not’ as an expanded body of value... equal to “NOT (for) YOU”.
            Once that gateway is denoted then the leavings at the scat site are... the hoard... the hoarder... and the ...shadow third player...; ‘the knowing’.
            Now my working policy of being cleaver at being the this shadow third player comes to me fair and square as ‘the knowing’ BUT I long ago qualified that my inter-relations with a hoard and its hoarder is ... ‘not front line’ enough for me... meaning that I gather from the same sources as the (Yankee) hoard assemblage and TOO be ‘knowing’ of all that so... prefer to step away from the practiced hoard of (Yankee) hoarders but CANNOT for they, as body, are a skilled, active and reliant force that is too... “IN MY FACE” there.... all the time... TOO.  Re-polishing this ‘mirror shining bright’:  Once we get rid of you there are only us and we cannot help but to bump into each other... CONSTANTLY.  Example?  Back (in Part Five) when Clymer goes early to the book sale... WHO does he compete with?  HUH?
            So... “WE”... and the “OLD BOOKS” at the Library Sale “early”.  Okay?  Get it?  It is a very small world very fast once we... get rid of you.  “Fine.”  You say?
            You don’t have any choice because... YOU DON’T KNOW.  So hoard in a hoard pile calculatingly assembled by a private equity firm having a fund asset allocation management shell ...does not go away... and I don’t want it to either.  “IT” does actually “FIND” and MANAGE and...  I am there for that... hoping what?  An ‘it’ is ‘so good’ it is beyond the management capacity of the hoard fund and I ‘pick it off’ or that it is a ‘not what was thought to be’ fall back “no need to worry about that”.  Which is better?  You tell me.  YOU’RE THE one with the finger pointed at the hoard and its hoarder.  I’m... just passing through.

            Okay, I will try it again.  Old books again (the traditional gold star grade first level ‘hoard’) (see Part Two).  Established is ‘book’ ‘hoard’.  Here found as FOUR stories (basement and attic hoard allowance [“allocation”] too) with a title of ‘rare bookseller’, venerable half century long career ‘bookman’ (“hoarder”).  How many rooms in the building?  ONLY ONE ROOM IS A GOOD ONE.  Which one?  Why?  With this scale of knowing hoard and hoarder... only the very true ‘rare book’ is ... my prey (quarry).  There are tons and tons and tons of old books on all floors everywhere... BUT... the hoard is ‘of knowing’.  THAT I KNOW so... where is the knowing one’s HOARD of old books the hoardee... could not... “ahhhh...” figure out; the ‘rare’.  NEXT TO THE BED... in the bedroom ...fourteen rooms and four floors away... from where I enter to confront a WALL of ‘old books’ about... “Irish History”.  No:  (Those are NOT good old books).  Off we go.  How many YEARS of knowing hoard hunting does it take me to get to the books in the bedroom.  I mean I am not just escorted there.  No way Frodo.  YEARS of scat pile hoard old book scat picking... one room, one floor, one peanut butter sandwich on stale bread, dirty clothes, cats... dim dark no light...:  OH YOU’VE REALLY GOT TO KNOW to do hoard this way.  You do not stand a chance... and a chance against me either.  The two of us (hoarder and I)... ‘doing this’...
            HATE YOU.
            That is probably the biggest common denominator of this; we agree on that; hate of hoard haters.  That is what it is; the ‘you are’.  So... sorry about that part but look
            You never considered  (Yankee) hoard to be other than a ‘someone’s mess’.  Really:  An ‘investment portfolio’.  Like... “no”.  Your still not there with that.  You don’t know what it is to know... so you have no... leverage... on this slippery scat pile of hoard.  And would not know a ‘knowing’ even if you visited a hoard and walked around in it discoursing upon ‘how INTERESTING’ you “FIND” all this.  (Yankee) hoard is about YANKEE HOARD.  It is NOT about you.  It ‘goes on’ without you.  Always.  Ok... maybe you buy one thing once from one hoard’s hoard pile... once... maybe.  And you keep it (hoard it) too... to “start” you say... to be a being ‘good’ at (Yankee) hoard.  Maybe a like what?  A Colonial era pewter charger?  How about an old book of local history?  Maybe an old sign that says “MAINE”.  Or an old photograph of a dead person... from when they were still alive.  An ‘oil painting’ that you “like”?  It’s a horror show.  You... reaching out to touch hoard is... horrible.  I see it all the time.  You... show me... “what I (you) bought”.

            The landscape of (Yankee) hoard is professional.  Professional to professional.  The more ‘out’ (private equity venture funds ‘spent’) the more ‘professional to professional’.  That’s why it seems so stand-off-ish.  It is ... out there... in the borderlands of hoard.  Jostling... position... markets.  Control.  Knowledge.  Old saints... these ‘of hoard’ be?
            Reverie of Saints.  With their old books, paintings... fabrics, silver, ceramics, glassware... decorative work... bangles, hairnets and shoe collections (Part Two).  That’s right; we include you in it... even though we do not feel you are very good at it.  We all clap the day you step up to the plate and swing at a fast ball
            Of ‘old art’.
            Think of that; an ‘old art’ ‘fast ball’ crossing the plate in front of you... as it peeks out from the muck of a hoard pile.  “By the way... you missed me”... it does not say to you... when you step away; a ‘pass it by’.  It is only a (Yankee) hoard of a hoarding (Yankee) hoarder.
            Next time.

            That is the summarial value... for the lay voyeur... of the discernment... that hoard, hoarder... and hoarding... IS a conscious action of ‘wealth management’ (Part Six [A]) taking place in a messy pile down the road from ‘home’ “on the other side – over there”.  “I went there once.” It is a ‘peek’ of a ‘boo’
            From you.
            “Alternative asset allocation” and its management... is left to us.  Discrimination and horse trading.  Value, perception, denotation, bartering, bickering, bragging, arm wrestling, cash counting and... ‘throwing out’ (beginning Part Two and thereafter )... are all...
            Your not around.
            To believe that a sense of sensitivity will come of a ‘no hoard’ person for a ‘hoard’ and its management team(s) is unlikely.  Positioning select acquisitions of self back-patted ‘I like’ taste... will not ever be hoard.  It is, at best, a ‘playing school’ and/or ‘playing store’ and/or... a more complex delusion that... early on... assures the hoard is a hoard, the hoarder is a hoarder and the hoarding is a

            Hoarders live and die in their hoards.  They understand that.  Their hoard does not ‘go with them’.  The hoarder leaves.  The hoard... is an... alternative asset allocation left behind... and is distributed.  That is a ‘doesn’t matter how’.  Hoard, especially good knowing hoard is the profile of the hoarder.  How good at hoard determines the life profile and the death mask... of a hoarder.  “They have great things”.  “In there”:
            “You’ve never been IN?  Oh they have just WONDERFUL THINGS.  HER MOTHER was FRENCH.  They bought the old Shelby house.  Her family moved to BOSTON.  THEN UP HERE.  Many of her family’s things came over from ENGLAND.  A lot of it was still in the shipping boxes when I saw it.  NEVER EVEN OPENED.  The place is just FULL of old SHIPPING BOXES.  All of it came on BOATS back then.  JUST WONDERFUL THINGS in there.  How did you say you got in?  Marvelous.  Simply marvelous the treasure you’ll FIND in there.  They never threw ANYTHING away.  Just PERFECT (Yankee) HOARDERS; the whole family was.”