More pressed glass

I went back to the estate sale this morning, because everything left today was two-thirds off the first-day prices (yesterday everything was only one-third off).  I hoped to find a Hocking opalescent moonstone Depression glass dish I’d passed by yesterday, because its price then was about what I’d have to sell it for.  Well, no such luck—somebody else glommed on to it.  So I poked around a bit longer, considering but finally rejecting a gorgeous but enormous blown amethyst glass vase and ewer, and a set of early-Sixties Tom Collins glasses that, even discounted, were still priced too high for me to make a profit.

Ah, but THEN . . . I picked up one of a pair of candlesticks sitting on the dining table and realized I Had Something.  They’re wash-dyed “cut-to-clear” cranberry glass, in wonderfully good shape.  The wash is a little uneven, but that’s not uncommon in cranberry Depression glass.  They’d been overlooked by everyone because the owner had plopped horrible little dried-flower collars down around the bases of the tapers, completely obscuring the sticks’ tops and their characteristic color that would have had any “glassie” quivering like a pointer dog.  Each one had been marked $24, which meant I could have the pair today for $16, and I’m tolerably sure I can raise more than that on them when I go to sell.

The hancho of the estate-sale firm acted chagrined when I brought the candlesticks up to the table to pay for them, because obviously he had missed their significance as well.  Still, he stuck by his own terms and let me get away with the sticks for $16.  I did leave him feeling a little better in the end, because I gave him back a pair of china Christmas-angel taper collars sitting on the dried-flower wreaths.  I didn’t want them (because I failed to recognize What They Were) and it turned out they were a pair of Lefton porcelain Christmas angels, and he seemed to think he could get a bit for them.  I didn’t grudge them him.

Once I got home, I pulled out the card table and a white tablecloth, set up in the front yard, and began taking pictures of all my weekend acquisitions.  (I wanted a white tablecloth to set off the dark red glass; the reflected light shining back through the dishes make them look far prettier and shows the patterns much better than if I used a colored cloth.)  In a little, when M wakes up, I’ll take the film to HEB and get it developed, and after that I can start trying to write copy for all this wonderful new Waring Stuph.

Homes Tour meeting this afternoon, and I think I better show up since the tour’s only two weeks away and I skipped last week.  Time to have a nice wash while M’s still having her nap, and when she wakes up we can have lunch and go to the meeting.  L and T are gone to Houston to see a friend of T’s graduate high school, and probably won’t be back until midnight, L said.

A dead relative disobeys the vacillating gyroslugger and its squamous demon.  Fnord.