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The Saga of the Bookcase

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A few months ago I moved house, and with it came the trauma of clearing out a huge old house that had been the repository for ‘stuff’ that had been accumulated since the 1930s.    Most of the old brown furniture went to the sale room, but there was one item that has caused anguish.

In the sitting room there was an old large bookcase, at least twelve foot high and nine feet wide.  The very ornate carved top had been detached seventy years ago and laid on top,  otherwise the bookcase would be thirteen – to fourteen foot high           ( don’t ask me what  it is in metres !)  The bottom half had three large cupboards whose doors had intricately carved leaves, shields and motifs.  The top half held the bookshelves – which could be moved at will to suit the heavy tomes bought from dusty old second hand bookshops.   I loved that bookcase.  I loved the books left behind from old Mr Sandy.  In most of them they had remarks in his exquisite copperplate handwriting commenting on that book ….” Absolute rubbish’ …..” A saga of serendipity” ..or simply ‘ do not waste time on reading this book”

The problem was moving the giant.  No problem … I had confidence in Mal and his helpers who quickly stripped the house of furniture and even stopped me taking stuff down to the tip.  ” No worries love – that old pine cupboard will sell!”   However, even they were stumped by the giant book case.   After much head scratching they decided they could just about manage to take it apart ( in two) and manoeuvre it through the front door.   Which they did- eventually.  What was it- blood, sweat, toil and tears?

The auctioneers had said ‘ no problem to sell”  ‘ and “I estimate that this old oak bookcase could sell for between £1,200 to £1,500″

If only.  After the first sale they telephoned me and said ‘ it didn’t sell, can we reduce the price to £800?”   I said Yes.   It didn’t sell.   Then they telephoned me and said ” it didn’t sell, can we reduce the price to £200?.  This was the bookcase that had been with me for fifty one years.  It was part of my marriage.  It was part of my life.  I was damned if I was going to let someone (anyone) have MY bookcase for £200 ( or less) I said ‘ Bring it back”

I phoned Mal and his helpers.  “Mal…can you bring my bookcase back to me.  I’ll put it back in the sitting room and it will have to be part of the furniture when we rent out the house.”   I should  mention that I had remarried and instead of selling my house when I moved out I had decided to turn my rambling,lovely old house into two dwellings and try to rent them out.  The bookcase was to stay and be part of the rental and if tenants didn’t like it they could go somewhere else.  What a mindset!

There was an anonymous grimace at the end of the phone.  ‘Of course ” said Mal.  ‘But as you know it takes three of us to get  the thing shifted and then rebuilt   I reckon it will take a morning at least and it will cost you”‘

” No matter I said”   “I’ll pay”  I was,of course, I love with this book case and as far as I was concerned it was never never going to leave my side again.

They bought it back and re-assembled it, I paid, and it stood in the same sitting room surrounded by festoons of old wallpaper and dust.

Then….as part of the refurbishment a new additional staircase had to be put in and suddenly my old bedroom turned out to be an ideal place for a large airy sitting room.  The sitting room ( the one with the bookcase in) would make an excellent bedroom.    Oh dear…..the book case would have to go .

” Mal…..Can you move my  bookcase again and take it to the sale room?

There was a nervous we giggle on the other end of the phone .  ” of course” said Mal ” but it will take three of us to shift it and reassemble it again.  It will take at least a  morning”   ” It will cost you”

By this time the object of my love had shifted.  I was beginning to look on the bookcase- this ogre of heavy brown wood – as a cuckoo in the nest of my living room.   Why hadn’t I listened to the kids.  ‘Mom – not everyone wants a bookcase”

Mal came back.  But I the meantime a new staircase had been built and blocked the front door   The bookcase couldn’t be shifted unless it was ground into fine sawdust and kindling.  I was prepared  to do this even with a nail file   I was beginning to hate this bloody bookcase  The object of my love for so long.

Mal said ‘ We can’t move this bookcase now you have had the staircase put in.  It won’t go out of the back door the ceiling is too high.  Unless we saw it in half”

At this point I phoned Mr Ridgeway who said – don’t let them touch it.  I’ll come up .  He dropped everything and when he arrived he said .   ” That’s a Continental 19th century bookcase and it will come apart”

My saviour.

And that’s what happened.   Mal and his men took off the top half of bookshelves.  Turned the bottom bit upside down and there at the bottom were four huge screws that meant the bookcase case apart   A bit like a 19thC IKEA   Problem solved   It did mean that this bookcase has travelled the breadth of Shropshire and at great cost.  It’s down in Low Town I unspectacular it will never be sold, I am however happy to donate it to a castle…a church…a huge room ….anywhere….as long as I don’t have to get in touch with Mal and his men again   It turned out to be the most travelled and the most expensive bookcase in Shropshire

 

 

 

 

 

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