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Finders Keepers

By Marilyn (LaraOct7@aol.com)




Are you excited when you buy something that you know is a 'steal'? Have you ever been to a yard sale or an auction and bought an undiscovered treasure? Have you ever found a buried treasure? Have you ever found a purse or wallet? How about money on the sidewalk?

I have told this story many times but it's a good one for this topic so I'll tell it again. :) A few years ago when we were selling my in-law's home, I found an attic treasure. It was my mother-in-law's old teddy bear, a golden Mohair made in 1902. No one wanted it and my husband said it was a piece of junk, that I should dump it in the trash.

No, I wanted it so I brought it home. Since then I have discovered that it's a genuine Stieff Bear, and it has considerable value. At the time, no one wanted it so it was a "Finders Keepers" for me.

Have you found any 'teddy bears'? Fiction or fact, we look forward to your entry.








 


Finders Keepers

By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)




Finders keepers the boy yelled out loud
Eliciting a curious crowd
He was looking down at the sidewalk
People all around gathered to gawk


Some of them sunk to their knees to look
Others just started their heads to shook
More and more people searched on the ground
While more and more people came around


The boy then rose and backed from the crowd
No longer shouting in voice so loud
People tried to find out the treasure
The boy stood there with smile of pleasure


For no treasure at all he had found
Just liked "finder's keeper" on tongue sound
He had yelled it all in such great fun
To see which greedy people would come


And greed for sure had taken hold fast
It was a project of his room's class
He figured this would earn him an "A"
His Dad for that a dollar would pay











 


Finders Keepers Haiku

By Bob (C1ydeBunky@aol.com)




finding, as it were
treasure of the richest kind
a computer friend


pleasant times occur
things in common help define
a relationship


when such things are found
one is well reminded of
finders keepers rule











 


My Mother's Passport

By Jeanie (Mingo184@aol.com)




I may have told the story of my mother's coming to America at the age of 19. She'd been born in the U.S.A. , but was raised in Poland. She came back here in 1928. I'd never seen any pictures of her as a child because the family was too poor to have pictures taken. The earliest picture I'd seen was her wedding picture with my Dad.

After Mom died, at the age of 88, and Dad had already been gone for 7 years, my brothers and I decided to sell the family home. Our parents had bought the house in 1940 and we were selling it in 2000. I was going through a cluster of things, mementos and such, digging through closets and drawers. I came upon a small wooden box and when I opened it, I found my mother's passport when she arrived here in 1928. I gazed at her photo and I began to cry. Why hadn't I seen this before? My Mom looked like me, I thought. She looked so scared in the photo. I thumbed through the pages and discovered she'd only had one little carry on bag. She'd been so brave to come here alone, unable to speak English. I would've loved to have heard her story. All I knew was that she was terribly seasick on the voyage here.

Also, in that wooden box, Mom had saved the gift cards she'd received at her wedding shower in 1934. They were held together by a rubber band. I discovered how dainty the cards were. The artistic drawings on them were apparently done in ink. I put these treasures back in the wooden box and I have them here in my home. Sometimes, when I am missing my mother, I take out the box and look at her passport and at the gift cards ...and, I smile. I wonder if she did the same, take these treasures out of the box and remember. Did you, Mom?










 


Finders-Keepers

By Mary (MusingByMary@aol.com)




Finders~keepers, losers weepers,
this the saying goes;
What a treasure I have found
God in Heaven knows!


His value is far beyond measure,
he's worth his weight in gold;
he won my heart many years ago
oh, the half just can't be told!


Warm and cuddly with affection,
He is my "HUGGIEBEAR";
every day our love grows stronger
as ups and downs we share.


From the start he was a KEEPER,
the best by far you see;
even with my faults & frailties
he's stayed in love with me:-)


FINDERS~KEEPERS, losers~weepers,
not haughtily I concur;
God blessed us from the very start
yes, Huggie's a KEEPER, for sure!



Mary Carter Mizrany©
May 29, 2007











 


Finders-Keepers

By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)




Words tonight won’t stand in a row or easily flow, so I’ll just talk to you. I volunteer for an agency which in addition to other services, owns a thrift store. We’re no stranger to wonderful "finds" there. I have a very old stoneware bowl which I have filled with artificial apples which I enjoy very much. Almost every Friday afternoon, four or five of us, after our work is done, eat at a little Mom and Pop’s Italian restaurant and then plow around the Gift Store. I don’t buy much because my house is full enough for my dear children to get stuck with, so I may buy a new blouse with a tag still on it, for $5.00 or a silly-looking purse, just little finds, but big to me. If I were learned, I might find a real antique teddy bear or a little antique table, a vase. And not long ago I bought my son a new-looking multi-pocketed carry-on suitcase on rollers - a name brand - for $7.00. He just got back from a Caribbean cruise and the carry-on went with him. And it’s a haven for craftsmen and artists. Can’t tell you how many frames, bits of material, old beads and stuff I’ve used.

Also, and this is the most fun to me, is beachcombing around the lake. Smooth, flat, river rocks, twisted old cedar pieces that look like an animal of some kind. Right now I have an alligator and a python waiting to be varnished and fitted with a little vase of air fern. A thimble will fit on the top of the alligator’s head. And then what???? There’s nothing more appealing than the way nature twists and turns trees, woods, water, and shapes rocks. Just finished making a pink and crystal mosaic box lined with a cut from a "found" remnant of a Victorian print. The crystal was from a broken piece of Imperial Candlewick, which I myself dropped. I painted the glass from an old picture frame pink and then hammered it to bits. My neighbors watched one day as this crazy walker stopped to pick up shards of bright blue glass from who knows what that was broken at the street curb. Trouble is I get more ideas than I have room for (or skills!). Still fumbling along.










 


Finders-Keepers

By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)




There at the bottom of the box,
The one we found beneath the docks,
No doubloons or pieces of eight.
Even better, it was really great!


Covered in mud and bottom silt,
Wrapped up in a patchwork quilt,
There it was, a golden flute!
Alas by now, it was surely mute.


My cousin and I were very proud.
Hoping we could play it loud.
We'd play the Pied Piper to the crabs in the sea.
They'd all march out and follow me!


We washed it and scrubbed it until it gleamed.
Sure looked like gold, the metal beamed.
We blew and puffed all the day long,
Didn't make a sound, much less a song.


There went the idea of our marching band.
We finally tossed it back in the sand.
Little did we know the one thing we'd need?
You can't play a flute that hasn't a reed!











 


Finders-Keepers

By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)




Where did my teddy go,
had it right here just a moment ago?
Lost my teddy who took it; how will I ever sleep?


Love my teddy, yes I do,
Had him since I was only two.
Who took my teddy, where did he go,
Oh me oh my where did he go?


When teddy’s arm came off,
Grandma restuffed him and sewed it back.
Mom did make him new eyes,
Nacre buttons oh do they shine.


Where is my teddy? Oh me oh my
How could I lose that important guy?
Mom is a calling, maybe she knows,
Oh teddy, please come back to me.


Yippeeeeee, here he is,
Mom did him a bath give.
Teddy smells good and is all clean,
Now I can sleep and all is better again.











 


Finders Keepers

By Barbara (Brierhillbarbara@aol.com)




IN THE CHILDISH QUESTION
TO WHERE BABIES COME FROM
OFTEN THE SOUTHERN ANSWER IS
UNDER THE CABBAGE LEAVES.


WE FOUND FIVE GRAND CHILDREN
I WAS THERE FOR THE BIRTH OF ONE,
IN THE ROOM I MEAN.
I RECEIVED MY DAUGHTER-IN-LAW'S
PERMISSION.


I WASN'T IN POSITION TO SEE MY OWN BORN.
BUT THIS BIG BEAUTIFUL BABY BOY I SAW HIM BORN.
HER MOM HELD HER HAND MY SON PACED
UNTIL THE DOCTOR TOLD HIM TO CUT THE CORD.


QUICKLY WRAPPED WIPED AND TAGGED
THEN TAGGED MY SON, AS HE WAS TO
GO BACK AND FORTH TO THE NURSERY
WITH HIS NEW SON.


MY SON STAYED CLOSE TO HIM AS IF SOMEONE
MIGHT STEAL HIM AWAY.
ANOTHER PRECIOUS CHILD THE FAMILY WILL BE PROUD OF.
THE OTHER CHILDREN I WAITED IN THE WAITING ROOM.
THIS ONE I WATCHED BEING BORN.


SOMEDAY I WILL TELL HIM HOW HE WAS BORN
AND HOW THE FAMILY WAS ALL AROUND THE HOSPITAL
AND HIS GRANDMOTHERS WERE RIGHT THERE.
HE IS A KEEPER AND WE DIDN'T FIND HIM UNDER THE CABBAGE LEAVES.











 


My Cherished Little Bee

By Connie (CSThomas@aol.com)




Some years ago
a treasure of utmost degree
flew into my home
like the fieriest of bees ~




A sting did penetrate
this mind yet to come
awakening my senses
... is what he had done ~




Now old and cranky
of this he'll attest
a bee of exception
I once called a pest ~




Little did I know the
knowledge I would gain
activating my senses in
this stale old brain ~




A bee of intelligence
for many eyes to see
with a swipe of his pen
all written..... to Me ~











 


Finders Keepers

By Lilly (Lilprincessitali@aol.com)




Going back to my younger years
I used to stop at a grocery store
first before visiting my grandma
Never fail, I look in the gutter outside
I would find money in coins every time
A few times a dollar folded so small
Probably fell out when getting car key
Always brought a big smile to my face
Later years, I lived with my grandma and
I never forgot my findings and did it again
This time it was everyday and would be
little trinkets that I enjoyed and saved
It became a habit with me and would
look in gutters every where I went
Never fail always found small coins.
Sometimes silver dollars, my delight
The most I found was twenty five dollars
when I went on a fun trip to Las Vegas
I still look in gutters but not as often
Always a happy smile every time
People seem more careful nowdays
Funny I never became a bag lady.











 


Finders Keepers

By Evelyn (Evenccw@aol.com)




Flea markets, estate sales, yard and garage sales are in my genes. And I’m a sucker for a sign that says “Free Kittens! Four springs ago, shopping for plants at a greenhouse, two little kitties came trotting down the lane right into my arms. Voila! Inkblot (Inky for short) and Shadow found a home and bonded with their older brother, Stumpy. Stumpy, named for the fishing village, Stumpy Point on North Carolina’s Outer Banks, came home with us as a kitten eight years ago. All three have been living happily with our mixed breed dog, Spanky. Spanky came to us as an eight-week-old puppy. I saw a “Free Puppies” sign at the Amish Flea Market in Kidron, Ohio in 1995 where Spanky was one of a large litter. Maybe he wasn’t the “pick of the litter," as the saying goes, but he has given us much joy and will be twelve years old on June sixth!




Inky and Shadow with their loving
"Daddy" and keeper, Tom





Spanky walks in the woods--our
"keeper" from the Amish Flea Market
in Kidron, Ohio in 1995



Spring fever comes to our household around the end of April each year when the flea markets open next to the Amish auction houses in Amish Country, less than an hour’s drive south of us. In addition to the flea markets, there is the Mount Hope Produce Auction where the Amish sell their produce from early spring to late fall. In April and May the auction barn is filled with all manner of spring flowers and vegetable plants. Tom and I got out our bidding card No. 1419 the first of May and were on our way to the auction. I bid on hanging baskets of red geraniums, now hanging on our front porch and five flats of Impatiens which are planted and flourishing for summer glory.




Hanging baskets of red geraniums bid on at
Mount Hope Amish Produce Auction





Amish Flea Market, Mount Hope Ohio
The hunt starts here!



Whether at an Amish flea market, estate tag sale, yard or garage sale, generally my approach is to scan the scene, just seeing if anything will catch my eye. If our possessions define us, what must mine say about me when I say that my chief weakness lies in books, kitchen utensils and gardening tools? I have a lemon squeezer that must be a hundred years old that I bought for a dime. Blackened when I ‘found’ it, it is now bright and shiny from much use. Discontinued pieces of Tupperware are another passion, (I’m sorry Mr. Tupper, you don’t make it like you used to!) I paid a quarter for an old watering can that looked like the one my mother used for watering her petunias. They don’t make them like that anymore either. In my possession there are several pre-Vatican II St. Joseph Missals, complete with the Latin. Any takers? Ah yes, “The whole thrill of junking is that you just know the next table will have what you’ve been looking for all of your life.”–Mary Randolph Carter




Galvanized watering can like
my mother used for watering
her petunias



I now step back to 1945 when I was on the other side of the estate sale auction. When the family moved to Ohio from Alabama my Dad held an auction of all of our farm equipment, animals and many of our household goods. Early in the morning the yard was flooded with a crowd of bidders. I was fifteen, my sister Edna, almost fourteen. On that bright cold December 29th day we kept record of each item auctioned, the name of the bidder, and the price it brought. By nightfall our fingers felt like they were about to fall off our hands they were so cold. It finally ended. The crowd had gone. The house was empty. Only memories remained..

A cow brought $60.00. A milch goat went for $1.75 and cotton carders that had carded cotton for quilting went for 50 cents. Lots and lots of things went for a dime. How fortunate I am to have among my souvenirs the 14-page booklet written in my hand, worn with age, of all the items sold at auction that day. Kept in a strong box, it is one of the most priceless things that I own. On page twelve, Item No. 11 is listed: Sewing Machine - Purchased by Joe Schiehl for $25. In a fit of sentimentality at an estate sale fifteen years ago I bought an old White Treadle Sewing Machine for $25. Except for the belt, it was in perfect working condition. I found a replacement belt in an Amish dry goods store. To my shame, I never sewed on it.




Auction sheet, December 29, 1945
Sewing Machine (top line) sold for $25.



When I opened the old treadle machine in my basement this week, priceless memories of times past came flooding back to me. I remembered when my mother spent hours on end sewing not only all of the dresses that we wore, but all of the sheets, quilts and towels made from flour and feed sacks. On that old treadle machine that went for $25 at auction, she taught me to sew a straight seam hemming towels made from feed sacks and sewing strips upon strips of bright pieces of cloth that we used to make quilts.




Old White Treadle Sewing Machine



I am now ready to let the old treadle go. The Amish still use these treadle sewing machines. I have been privileged to see them sewing while visiting in their homes. It is high time that this beautiful machine be put to the use for which it was intended The original owner must have been quite the seamstress because the machine had all the “bells and whistles” for its day. .

For me there will always be the thrill in the hunt, always new things to discover. Beauty always beckons. Sometimes it is in a flower I’ve never seen, in a creek rock I try to identify, or sea shells I pick up while on the sea shore. I’ve lived enough years that I can safely say that my impulse to collect “things” has decreased over time. I am confident that I have all that I really need. To quote Anne Morrow Lindbergh from her beautiful Gift from the Sea: “One cannot collect all the beautiful shells on the beach. One can only collect a few, and they are more beautiful because they are few.”

Yes! Finders Keepers--As you seek you shall find!











 

 

 



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