Another crazybusylotsofdriving day, although with family along this time.
There was a little salad left.
And spaghetti. The boy scouts scooped lots of sauce and meat onto those noodles–good for them. Then, with their white shirts and fake mustaches (upside down on one kid), they waited the lines of folding tables covered in butcher paper, refilled the water pitchers, and offered crayons to the little ones so they could break all the rules of home by drawing on the table. They’d papered over the differences.
Then they were offering ice cream with a chocolate cookie in a cup to all as Dave warmed up. There is nobody who can talk as fast as Dave when he wants to.
It was Troop 66 fundraiser time again.
Dave: I have this beautiful cranberry-apple crisp–and it’s still warm from the oven! Who’ll bid me $20? 22, 25. 27? 30! Do I hear 31–33! (No, in an aside to his little kid, I’m not counting–oh, did Mom say so? Okay, 34!) 35!
Going once, going…37! Do I hear 40? Forty, forty, SOLD!!! for forty dollars!
It was a beautiful thing to behold. That man knows how to play auctioneer for the day after the day after the day after Halloween. Tablesfull of homemade desserts went home with happy people, and I know that tomorrow the question of the day at church will be, Did you get one? Cool, whatja get? …Oooh!
There was one that Phyllis (whose own dessert went for a good price) had had her eyes on, and when Dave started in on it she jumped out of her chair from across the long room, announced the price and announced it sold.
This had never happened before in all the years of doing these and it almost threw him a moment:Â Wait, $20?
Yes, $20, it’s mine, sold! (The room laughed.)
He looked around, questioning his large audience. Twenty?
Heads nodded all around.
Twenty! Sold! To Phyllis!
There were a few other things–actually, a lot of other things–and a plate of homemade chocolate truffles came up–and there was Phyllis. Before he could even begin she was rushing forward, waving a fistful of bills and telling him he had to sell her just one. (Knowing that if everyone followed her lead there would be a good price indeed for that plate.)
Never get in the way of a good laugh at everybody’s enjoyment; she got her truffle, big enough to share, and share she did. It was fabulous.
As she said to me afterwards, Dave is so good at this and he’s such a crackup. It’s all about the entertainment, never mind the spaghetti.
Not to mention a little sharing of good food and good deeds. And a good time was had by all.