Going, Going, Gone - Here Comes the Auctioneer

"SALE-O...SALE-O...Starting NOW! SALE-O...SALE-O..."

At last, it's the moment when three or four men in matching shirts and jeans and R.M. Williams boots, all sporting their shady Akubra hats - suddenly jump up on the long tray-top of the 'Sundries' truck...and the Auction begins.

The first order of business is to welcome all buyers and wish them success - then to name and often introduce the present property owner, and to tell the reason for this sale, on this day. Maybe this owner has sold his farm and is retiring...or moving to another home, another type of farming... or sometimes, right out of farming altogether, for one reason or another.

Then the auctioneer details the terms of the sale (e.g. payment to be made in full prior to removal of goods - except in the case of alternative financial arrangements having been made prior to the sale - usually for larger items, for instance). He also stresses the need to have a registered number - obtained from the temporary 'office' usually set up in one of the farm sheds. Only bids from registered buyers with their card displaying a large number will be recognised and accepted.

This preamble ends with a brief run-through of the order of the sale, with much arm waving and pointing to the rows of goods for sale. And now the auctioneer declares the sale open and begins his chant, describing the item (or box of items) and suggesting -

"Well, this one must be worth - ah-h-h, what would we say? $100? Do I hear 100?" (waits, looks around in all directions... no response, so he continues) "75 maybe? Oh, come on fellows - there MUST be a 50 out there somewhere...surely? This is a top quality (whatever)- worth every bit of $100. Come on! Don't be shy." (waits briefly again) "OK, 20 then. $20 only...YES! Thank you sir. I have a bid of $20 to get us started ladies and gentlemen. Do I hear $25?"

And so it progresses. The auctioneer and his assistants have their heads swiveling constantly, scanning the crowd for the anticipated bids; shouting loudly as they lunge forward, pointing in the general direction of the current bid, "YES!...on the right", or "Here's a third (or fourth) punter."

And, in the meantime, the auctioneer continues his spiel, repeating the increasing amount, interspersed with cajoling or challenging statements, one after another, to the participants. "It's back to you sir...yes, you over there, at the back. Surely you won't let this one slip through your fingers...just for a paltry $5 more??"

Until suddenly, no more bids are apparent - and then the auctioneer says, "OK folks...at $... No more bids? Are you sure? This will be the bargain of the sale! Sure? Going once...(pauses, looking in each direction) Going twice...(and then he claps his hands loudly). All done at the bargain price of $... to No... " - and he moves on to the next item as an assistant records the number on one of the many pages of a typed list on his clipboard. Periodically, as a sheet is filled, a 'runner' delivers it to the 'office' so the girls there can begin preparation of the individual dockets, ready for totaling when each buyer is finished.

How do so many auctioneers become such amazing entertainers - on top of all the practical demands of the job? It's a mystery, when you consider the scope of knowledge they require - firstly of the goods themselves, and to be able to recognise weird and wonderful and quite obscure 'parts' of tools or machinery dating from maybe decades ago. And then to be able to guess a reasonable price to start the bidding. How often does the final price end up SO close to the first opener offered by our auctioneer - despite dipping to alarmingly low levels before once again lifting to the heights? It happens far more often than you would believe.

And in between all of this - and his 'machine gun' delivery, he'll acknowledge people he knows - MANY of them - and by name as well! "Aw come on George. Let the moths out...they need some air!" - or, "Hey Fred...thought you were looking for one of these the other week. Here's a beauty for you...", and on and on he goes. Seriously awesome!

As well, the auctioneer and his assistants must be able to recognise the many and varied ways that bidders...bid! Ordinary people just lift their numbered card, or maybe point a finger skywards, whilst others hold their hand against their face and lift a finger - and either shake their head to stop bidding...or simply turn away.

Amongst the buyers, however, will be many who for one reason or another, don't want to be identified as an interested party. This can be the case when its maybe a scrap-metal buyer looking for ultimate bargains to melt down. The same is also true of the entrepreneur-type who will purchase something and 'do it up' and resell for a healthy profit. Now he would rather not be identified with this purchase price. Or maybe it's some wealthy local farmer who may have the price artificially boosted by other 'mock' buyers, just to see him pay more because - "he can afford it - old moneybags!" But then we have the 'regulars', sometimes other agents buying on behalf of individual farmers from their own area (which could well be quite some distance away).

Now we see the wink; the hand holding the chin, or a solid stare that means the bidder is still bidding; the eyebrow lift; the mouth or nose twitch - here a scratch, there a rub - truly, the choices are endless. An abrupt stop to any of these means the bidding is over for that individual - OR - he has been secretly successful.

Many fascinating aspects of human nature are demonstrated at a Farm Clearing Sale. One in particular, is a phenomenon that may involve a strange type of seemingly 'wannabe' status that all this selling can engender. What happens is that the usually sage and sensible men of the land suddenly throw caution to the wind in their sudden, overwhelming desire to 'own' a particular item - and the bidding goes higher...and higher. And you see ordinary people paying extraordinary prices - obviously far above their plans (or budget) - and sometimes even above new prices! Truly!

No warranties or guarantees - often, not even an Operating Manual! Must be tricky when they get it home. At such times, the seller first scratches his head in disbelief, and then rubs his hands with glee. And those 'in the know' of the appropriate price raise their eyebrows, exchange dubious glances, and sometimes share a snigger. "What was he thinking of?" their expressions obviously ask.

So the sale continues, usually for four or more hours, with the auctioneer cheerfully shouting his way through sundries and tools and fencing; stock feed and water troughs and crop seed; farm implements and machinery and vehicles - and somewhere in between - pens of stock - maybe cattle or sheep - or both. And he never misses a beat - and he almost always knows the going price of the day. If not, it's a modest, "OK fellers - set me right on these, will you? What do you reckon they're worth?

But that is a rare occurrence if it's stock or fodder or the farm 'gear'. He almost always seems to know these prices. No, this is most often heard towards the end of the sale, as he tackles a multitude of household goods - furniture, bedding, crockery and cutlery, ornaments, etc. etc. His requests for help on pricing - and his voice (finally starting to get just a little hoarse) - clearly show the end of the sale is near, and he couldn't be happier.

All that's left is to thank all the buyers for attending - and then take care of the minor detail of somehow getting his voice...and his enthusiasm, back in gear, ready to do it all again next week!

What a man! What a show!

© 2011 Christine Larsen All Rights Reserved Worldwide

If this story has whet your appetite for more information and atmosphere of the Farm Clearing Sale, please enjoy my other articles starting with the prefix - 'Going, Going...Gone - '

And if you want to get the true 'flavour and atmosphere' of the whole Farm Clearing Sale picture, have a look at my Squidoo lens - The Farmer Needs a Wife

I particularly love the fantastic YouTube video of an auction in the USA - not Australian - but so true to reality...just listen to that auctioneer! I have also written a section about the long-suffering Farmer's Wife's extra duties involved in these sales - whether 'Home or Away'. Enjoy!

View the original article here

Going, Going, Gone - Our Turn

"Best we have a Clearing Sale," I'd said, quite nonchalantly. "Our 'trash'...hmm-mm...someone else's 'treasure'?" Seemed simple enough...as a concept - an answer to the looming problem of Moving Day, and the items that would be unwanted on the new farm - the new focus - the new plans.

"I was just thinking the same thing," said the man of the house. "There's a heap of things we really don't need anymore. Pretty dumb to pay good money to cart them to the new place...different needs now, you know?"

SO true. When we'd started our farming endeavour as share-farmers, we'd had next to nothing of farm equipment - and had haunted other farm clearing sales to gather together our 'stash' of bargains. Money was pretty thin on the ground in those early days - and we were the ones 'treasuring' other farmers' so-called 'trash'. And now, here it was - our turn. And the decision-making began, as we started the long and wearisome job of sorting out what we would no longer need in our new enterprise.

Somehow, nothing had prepared us for the degree of attachment we had developed for impossibly ugly and worn farm 'stuff'. Memories all but overwhelmed us and filled our minds and hearts as we picked up one item, ran hands over another, and found ourselves looking way past the item - back to a time long gone. Maybe it had been an event that touched or terrified; inspired or irritated; alarmed or angered...whatever...these feelings were innumerable, but so very real. "Do you remember....?" became the most often used words in our vocabulary - making the chore of choosing 'rejects' impossibly slow, and often quite painful, given the trials and tribulations; the tragedies and triumphs; in fact, the whole gamut of Life...as we had lived it for 16 years.

Every single item required at least some cleaning - many required much attention and sprucing up - and there were some that simply demanded a complete paint job, in order to present them in their best light. We had often been the happy purchasers of bargains - specifically because they were grubby and grotty, neglected and in need of much TLC. 'Ours' would not go down this particular path.

At last, it was time to call in the Auctioneer - for his advice, opinions, and suggestions on various aspects of the sale. He looked at the items we had chosen - added a few more, and then, together, we planned the advertisement for local papers - noting the 'order' that the sale would follow. He was the expert on the wording of the advert., the timing and date of the sale (some weeks hence), and how to list enough items to grab interest and hold onto it.

And he would check for us as to who might wish to cater for the teas and lunch....maybe Red Cross, or Flying Doctor, or local CWA (Country Women's Assoc.)...perhaps the local Lions Club, or bowling club. He would check and book and work out with these 'caterers' an estimate of the food/drink requirements.

Now there was just the simple matter of whether we wished to put 'reserve prices' on the larger or more valuable items (This means placing a 'lowest' price we would accept, at which point we would be given the choice not to sell - or to signify willingness to negotiate an acceptable price with the highest bidder, privately, after the sale). Thankfully, this was one thing we didn't have to decide just then. We had until just a few days before the sale to make this particular decision.

Did we sign some type of Auction Agreement at this time? Maybe...I guess so. Was he as exhausted as us by the end of this amazingly detailed 'executive' decision-making exercise? I think 'yes'. Were we stressed and emotionally drained...whilst simultaneously feeling relieved that we had finally 'bitten the bullet' and committed to selling these once essential elements of our farming livelihood? Most definitely!

Now it was time for the truly physical workload - moving items into logical groups - and then choosing which could be outside, impervious to weathering for the short time ahead - and these must be placed in rows a certain distance apart. This was required firstly to allow the anticipated crowd of bidders to gather closely to the item under the auctioneer's scrutiny, and later, to allow vehicle access on one side or the other for pick-up and removal.

Uh-oh...we nearly forgot - one clean paddock (rocks, branches, logs...and of course, cow-pats removed), with a road gate - or at least close to the main farm gate - would be required for vehicle parking. And yet another sign - simply declaring 'Parking'. The road edges both sides would soon fill with an amazing number and variety of vehicles. Fascinating to see the neat, politely and thoughtfully distanced rows of cars, leaving ample space for arrival and departure of others, and allowing comfortable manoeuvrability for those towing trailers.

The setting up continued inside appropriately sized sheds with the items that were not weatherproof - and of course, household items. Once again, all in rows, with countless boxes of all manner of things lined up on tables and makeshift trestles, sometimes on wooden pallets - low down, but at least, off the floor. And our 'old faithful' truck trailer was laden high with boxes of those famous 'Sundries', to be spread out on more trestles outside, on the day. The local supermarkets had seen it all before - this sudden, urgent and tremendous demand for cardboard boxes of all sizes and shapes. They understood.

It seemed we had finally accepted that we had more 'stuff' than we needed (how come it's always 'a flood or a famine' in this area?) - and it was our turn to provide 'treasure' to someone else. Old sheets emerged, to cover and screen off items that were NOT for sale in the sheds, with a few large signs pinned on declaring 'NFS'. And countless tarpaulins were used in the 'great outdoors', to protect items for sale (that couldn't be stored inside the now-bulging sheds).

And still we had to find areas suitable for the Agent/Auctioneer's temporary 'office' for all sales to be recorded, written out and totalled for the buyers when their day's purchasing was completed. AND never forget - an area for the 'catering corps'. Oh wow! Where would it ever end, we wondered. Another visit or two from the Auctioneer found his suggestions and approval most welcome and reassuring. We were actually 'on track'.

At last, Clearing Sale Eve arrived - after our last days had been spent frantically organising all those pesky last minute details. I seem to remember the need for a few stiff drinks before bed to 'dumb-down' the jitters, and ensure at least a few hours of rest before 'THE DAY' dawned. (A dawn we would no doubt be featuring in largely...as we prepared the final presentation of a major period of our farming years).

© 2011 Christine Larsen All Rights Reserved Worldwide

If this story has whet your appetite for more information and atmosphere of the Farm Clearing Sale, please enjoy my other articles starting with the prefix - 'Going, Going...Gone - '

And if you want to get the true 'flavour and atmosphere' of the whole Farm Clearing Sale picture, have a look at my Squidoo lens - The Farmer Needs a Wife

I particularly love the fantastic YouTube video of an auction in the USA - not Australian - but so true to reality...just listen to that auctioneer! I have also written a section about the long-suffering Farmer's Wife's extra duties involved in these sales - whether 'Home or Away'. Enjoy!

View the original article here

Going, Going, Gone - Finally

"Wake up love. It's Sale Day - at last." Despite the late night and sporadic sleep, interrupted by nightmares of things forgotten - things going wrong - there was an instant wakefulness, a mental standing to attention.

We've all heard of Father Christmas 'making a list and checking it twice'...well-ll...we had made countless lists and checked them all a heap more times than just twice, and still I fretted about oversights.

All of our sale items sorted and cleaned; tentatively priced; moved here and moved there, and sometimes moved back to the first position again; until finally all were in their 'order of sale'...check.

Advertising of the Clearing Sale in the local paper and other rural newspapers further afield, a few weeks ago, and again last week....check.

Catering organized (local Red Cross)...check.

Agent's signs up on roads leading to our place - and on our property itself...check.

And yet, after all that prior organization, there were still a myriad of items to be moved out of sheds, garage and our home itself - all those things that couldn't be outdoors until the day itself in case of unfriendly weather. Just when we'd thought we were SO organized, and had been congratulating ourselves on all our planning and hard work - these last minute chores deteriorated into a serious scramble.

Although the sale was not due to start until 10am, the first of the potential buyers (or was that just 'lookers'?), started to arrive before 8am, whilst we were still flat out in the midst of all this final 'shuffling' and arranging. Politely, but in vain, we tried to encourage them to go for a wander down the rows of farm machinery and 'stuff', so we could get these last items in place (without side-stepping and/or tripping over an alarmingly fast-growing number of parents - and kids...and their toys!).

Some of the earliest and most inquisitive fossickers start poking around in boxes, even as you are carrying them out...whilst other more unscrupulous types change the contents of some boxes to include and/or exclude unwanted items. This can prove disastrous for the first 're-arranger', as the same action is repeated by others, sometimes several times over - until the final boxes bear no resemblance whatsoever to their original, (vendor-packed) content. Karma, maybe?

In the last hour or so before the action begins, the crowd swells to amazing proportions as the designated 'parking paddock' fills with all manner of farm vehicles and trailers, until it looks like a major auto-yard. And each side of your road in both directions - AND up your driveway, all but blocking it. They are everywhere...like measles. But it is, after all, a good sign - the numbers should make for spirited bidding...you hope!

"SALE-O...SALE-O", the auctioneer shouts, and as the crowds draw close around the starting point - the tray top of countless boxes and other unlikely containers of farm sundries, at last, the Clearing Sale begins. And I can take a short break and a sit down with a cuppa...inside my house...blissfully alone for just a short reprieve - far from the 'madding crowd'.

All too soon, it was necessary to be present - hovering around the outskirts, trying to keep an unobtrusive eye on other potential disaster areas, particularly of the type involving vehicles and machinery with working parts. Imagine the horror of the engine that is extremely difficult to 'fire up' or won't even start at all. Especially after being described confidently by the auctioneer, - "goes like a possum up a gumtree" - or perhaps, 'runs on the smell of an oily rag".

So how is it possible for there to be a problem? In a word - SABOTAGE! A seemingly innocent but close examination of an engine by a dodgy buyer, can result in a rotor being removed from the distributor - or turning the ignition key on and off repeatedly (without actually starting the motor), floods the firing chamber, causing great difficulty in starting next time (when the auctioneer's offsider cheerfully tries it). Simply and speedily achieved - and the end result, of course is a decrease in value, so that the saboteur will pay considerably less - maybe even get the 'bargain of the day' - for what appears to be a faulty or unreliable vehicle or piece of machinery. Lucky for the buyer - diabolical for the vendor.

We are told that today's Clearing Sales commonly expect to include actual theft in the 'normal' agenda. The creativity of these thieves makes you wonder what levels of success they could achieve honestly, instead of hurting their fellow-farmer. Thankfully, the majority of would-be buyers are a happy, friendly and supportive group - as evidenced by their willingness to help each other to gather their purchases at the end of the sale.

In the meantime, the large buying group move along with the auctioneer and his assistants in a reasonably quiet fashion, compared to his loud voice chanting - "...do I hear 20, 20, 20?...or 15?...come on, someone must have 15?...OH, COME ON!...10, surely 10? This is an insult!". And then the prices can go all the way up again, as the bidding starts in earnest.

It's a bitter-sweet time for the vendor, as the sale progresses. The amount many items get 'knocked down' for surprise you - both happily and regretfully. On the day, at that particular moment - it's anybody's guess where the interest and the bidding will start...and eventually stop. This would be true of all auctions, but a Clearing Sale moves along at a 'bone-rattling' pace.

After all those weeks of planning and preparation - it's suddenly all over. The auctioneer has ended (somewhat hoarsely) with his thanks and last instructions about attending the temporary 'office' to finalise payments - and requesting a patient and orderly collection of purchases. For some considerable time after this, bedlam ensues as queues form at the 'office' and then traffic jams of all manner of farm vehicles, trucks and trailers bank up between the long lines of goods, to collect their purchases, many previously gathered together into motley heaps.

There is much dust, and maneuvering of vehicles, and barking of dogs, and shouted directions for backing up to the chosen 'heap'. More often than not, the finest traditions of mateship are witnessed, as farmers pitch in and heave together to lift and man-handle that heavy load that one man can't manage... up onto the back of that ute...or trailer. 'She'll be right, mate" would be the most common phrase heard at this time. And over to one side will be a couple of low-loader semi-trailers, ready and able to be hired to take home the large machinery - and maybe another with a large crane for lifting oversized and over-weighty items.

At last, the final items have been collected, and the last vehicle drives away. The silence is deafening until the birds remember to sing again, and the sheep and cows in the paddocks to discuss the day. Most shocking is the huge barren space where first of all so much farm gear has been lined up for days and weeks - and then covered in all those people and their vehicles.

Once again, that bitter-sweet feeling engulfs you. Sad to think of all that 'stash', once upon a time your treasures - now no longer absolutely necessary...now no longer yours - and yet...when you come to pack up the rest, how much easier it will be. And suddenly, you lift your head and straighten your back, and stop looking over your shoulder.

It's time to look forward, to the future...and it's all good.

© 2011 Christine Larsen All Rights Reserved Worldwide

Many years ago when we worked on the farm in my story Farmers? Are You Serious? we were on our 'L' plates - only just beginning our very own farming career, owning nothing of farm equipment ourselves...and so, we would frequent Clearing Sales far and wide to build up our 'stash'. This particular article about aspects of these farm sales relates to a time some 18 years later, when it was finally our turn to have our own Clearing sale, preparatory to moving on to a different farming enterprise. If this last story has whet your appetite for more information on the various aspects and atmosphere of the Farm Clearing Sale, please enjoy my other articles starting with the prefix - 'Going, Going...Gone - '

And if you want to get the true 'flavour and atmosphere' of the whole Farm Clearing Sale picture, have a look at my Squidoo lens - The Farmer Needs a Wife I particularly love the fantastic YouTube video of an auction in the USA - not Australian - but so true to reality...just listen to that auctioneer! I have also written a section about the long-suffering Farmer's Wife's extra duties involved in these sales - whether 'Home or Away'.

Enjoy!

View the original article here

Going, Going, Gone, And So It Begins

For the potential buyers (or bidders), it all begins with an advertisement in the local paper, some weeks before the Clearing Sale itself. Potential buyers spend considerable time agonizing over the desire to purchase...balanced against their needs...and of course, available funds (or maybe accessibility to funds?) And deep consideration is given to the distance to be travelled to attend - and/or how to transport the potential purchases home...if successful.

But now the day has arrived, the research into comparable 'new' or near-new prices completed - and top dollar price decided on the desired goods/machinery/whatever. Accordingly, decisions have been made as to which vehicle to travel in - the comfy sedan (if small-sized purchases are planned) - through trailer, utility, truck - or maybe the plan is to book 'professional' transport for the much larger items.

As always, there will be much anxious searching for the agent's signs at road junctions near to the Sale, and fears will develop of somehow missing the place; all amazingly resolved at the turn of the road - or over the other side of a hill. Lo and behold! There are a hundred or more vehicles of all kinds (and trailers and even horse floats)...lining each side of the road - and even more in a cleared paddock in vast numbers, lined up in neat rows, with a heap of maneuvering space between.

A quick perusal of the items for sale decides whether this is likely to be a 'good'un' or a 'dud' (or waste of space). Next move is to find the temporary 'office' of the selling agent - and to register with your name and some details and receive a numbered ticket (about the size of a playing card). This will be your bidder number and all purchases and their prices will be recorded as the sale proceeds - with a final accounting and payment at the end, before the purchases are removed. Of course, the most astute buyers have arrived early enough to examine all the items for sale, pass judgment and decide an acceptable price range.

The first to be sold will be the multitude of boxes of sundries, usually crowded on the back of a truck or semi-trailer, and maybe a trestle table or two. These are the ultimate delight of the tinkerer, the 'wannabe' mechanic-cum-fixer of all things - and of immense value to the newbie farmer, to start his treasured stock of 'stuff' (those countless bits and pieces, odds and sods, that will come in SO handy...some day!) You just cannot imagine how many of these 'essentials' will be picked up, examined in detail - maybe recognised and identified - maybe not! BIT...you never know when you may need that...whatchamacallit.

Somewhat reluctantly, the potential buyer moves on to begin his tour of long rows of this other farmer's 'trash and treasure' - hoping against hope there is far less of the former, and untold bargains to be found in the latter. These rows will include such diverse items as - stock-handling equipment; water and feed troughs; fencing gear; gates and fence posts; bags of feed and bags of seed for sowing;, countless part and full containers of weedicides, pesticides, etc. Maybe there will be a chicken shed or bird aviary or rabbit hutch - even an old half rainwater tank, used as a shelter for whatever.

Next are likely to be a line-up of numerous farm implements; spray tanks and the like - gradually getting larger and more elaborate - until there are tractors, motor bikes, utes, trucks. There may be bales of hay - just a few to show the type stored elsewhere in large sheds...and the auctioneer will give details of numbers available and the 'lots' or how many can be purchased at a time.

Sometimes there are stock - most often sheep, but sometimes cattle - sorted in pens into types...or ages...or pregnancy status...or whether they are wethers (castrated male sheep)...or rams.

All of these will have one thing in common - they are terrified - after weeks or months in the tranquility of the paddock, to be suddenly surrounded by a mass of human bodies - and being poked and wool parted to check length, and mouths wrenched open to check tooth status for age. Not a good place to be.

Finally, it is the household goods - usually starting with outdoor furniture; BBQ's; a tent; maybe a dog kennel or two, perhaps an animal carry-cage. There is likely to be a collection of furniture, maybe the unwanted bedroom leftovers from a grown family - or perhaps just older furniture...tired now...replaced now.

Numerous boxes will hold kitchen items; books and magazines; old records, maybe some CDs - maybe even a stereo or sound system to play them on, as well; all manner of gadgets and either well-used or 'still in their manufacturers' boxes' electrical goods. Lamp shades and lamp stands will be interspersed with crockery and cutlery and glassware on kitchen tables; piles of doyleys and tablecloths and cushions; on the ground and all around, toys and prams and cots; and then radiators...or a surfboard, or biker's crash helmet - and almost always a fridge or two...and the obligatory old super-size freezer.

Around about now, it's a good idea to check the catering for a snack before the sale begins. Usually one of the sheds has a long table set up by the local CWA (Country Women's Assoc.) ladies, or the lady bowlers, or Red Cross - containing a huge array of their 'culinary delights'. Rows of tempting sandwiches with colourful fillings are wrapped firmly in plastic wrap for ultimate freshness, as are countless varieties of cakes and biscuits and slices. Sometimes, small cardboard plates containing 3 or 4 varieties are on offer - sometimes buttered scones, some with jam. And always the choice of tea or coffee, black or white, sugar or not - the urn is on the boil before they have finished setting up.

Sometimes, the local Lions branch, or maybe the footy club will have a 'sausage sizzle' on the go, and then it's a slice of fresh bread on a paper serviette with a couple of sausages slapped on top, and some fried onion rings - and then you 'slip, slop, slap' the sauce on yourself.

It's a great way to prepare yourself for the moment when 3 or 4 men - in matching shirts and jeans and RM Williams boots, all sporting their shady Akubra hats - suddenly jump up on the back of that 'sundries' truck, and the auctioneer shouts -

"SALE-O....SALE-O..... STARTING NOW! SALE-O...SALE-O..."

And another Farm Clearing Sale begins.

© 2011 Christine Larsen All Rights Reserved Worldwide

If this story has whet your appetite for more information and atmosphere of the Farm Clearing Sale, you will enjoy my other articles starting with the prefix - 'Going, Going...Gone - '

And to read of the contribution the Farmer's Wife makes to all of this...and so much more!...see my Squidoo lens - The Farmer Needs a Wife

I've added a YouTube video of a clearing sale to this lens - and whilst it's not Australian, it IS faithful to all I describe above.

View the original article here