Requiem

I am deathly afraid of hypodermic needles, have I ever told you that?  When I was sixteen years old, I went to the dentist to have two fillings put in.  I was so scared of the injection that I had him do the entire job with no novocaine.  None.  No, I didn't endure the pain:  I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, put it all in a room, shut the door on it, then went to lie on a beach in the sun while he worked.  If the doc hadn't been so nervous about drilling the teeth of an unmedicated patient that his shaking hand hit the inside of my cheek (briefly distracting me), I would never have felt a thing.

I'm no superwoman.  I'm just a good student.

My mother taught me how to do what she called "self-hypnosis" when I was six and had trouble sleeping.  For a week straight, she spent hours at bedtime showing me how to focus on one part of my body, focusing on (even altering) the pulse, and then how to use it to relax each area until I couldn't help but fall asleep.  She used these methods herself, mostly because (seriously) there wasn't a square inch of her body that hadn't been cut, seared, scraped, or scarred in some way by her legendary lack of coordination (or lack of awareness of the world around her and its frequent missles she couldn't dodge fast enough).  She used these techniques to help block pain, and even memory, temporarily, when she worked on things she couldn't tell anyone else about (not secret stuff, but Secret stuff).

Of course, she taught me so much more:  like ... that a peanut butter cookie should be so good that it only rarely makes it to the oven; that mothers can see through walls and around corners (as long as there's a really big mirror turned just right); that any true story can be made more exciting with only a bit of embellishment (and any made-up one is always better told in different voices); that both happiness and love are choices, not outside-forces, magic-wand things; that though she and Dad were the ones caught red-handed carrying presents down to the tree, it didn't mean Santa Claus doesn't exist; that many people call a woman "bitch" when they can't or don't want to admit "strong," "righteous," or "intelligent" but I should think hard if I start hearing it often (or from someone I love); and, especially, that no matter how many times life (or ex-husbands) drops chimneys on our heads, we can be forgiven if we pause a moment for tears or even self-pity, but we should never, ultimately, let it stop us.

Until it must.

Last Friday, after years of injuries and hurts, of fighting Lupus, COPD, her own weak spinal column, and (finally) cardio-pulmonary hypertension, she succumbed to the pressure of the entire hail of slings and arrows.  At around three in the afternoon, surrounded by her doctors and nurses, her children and many of her grandchildren, my funny, hard-working, wise-one-minute-crazy-the-next mother passed from this world to the next.

I am so grateful to have the lessons, and all those memories.

They and others like them, are, and have always been, my greatest treasure.

Treasure Tuesday

It's been a weird week.  More snow, but street finally plowed on Sunday.  Eating more but somehow losing a chunk of the weight I gained during the storms.  Classes held, but more than my poor senses could handle.

It's no wonder that I finally went to the penny crock and the silver jar.

Overall, I believe I looked at several thousand pennies and well over $266 in quarters, dimes, and nickels.  Okay, the last I know for sure - I rolled the non-state quarters - but the first is a guess (and if anyone can compute the volume of a large bean pot, then divide by the volume of the average penny, to see how many I actually scrutinized ... you really need a life).  It was a very strange experiment, this first taste of "coin roll" hunting on steriods, but quite satisfying.  And, as usual, I learned several things ... including a few shortcuts.

First, pennies are fiddly things to hunt.  I decided that even though there are an astonishing number of valuable pennies out there, I would limit myself to hunting for odd or wheat-backed coins now, and save the rest for closer scrutiny (mainly because I needed a magnifying glass that I could find to read dates and mint marks).  Still, I found some fabulous things.

Found:  52 wheat-backed pennies (earliest is 1920)
              7 Canadian pennies
              3 new US pennies (for the grandkids)
              2 English pennies (one with a young QE II)
              2 Indian Heads

Lost:  the tiniest bit of eyesight ... maybe some sanity

Not surprisingly, I'm really psyched about those Indian Heads.  One is from 1886, the other from 1905.  My husband (who actually knows coins) says the 1886 is the rarest but is in tragic shape (don't remember his "grade" but it's pretty worn down ... and I feel its pain).  But the 1905 is in very good shape - not mint, but sharp and clear.  It's about $20 in pennies, I suspect, just from those two.

One day, I will go back and look for the 1969-S with double-die obverse, and the 1970-S small date Lincoln, and the 1970 no-mint doubled and the 1999 Wide "AM" thingie.  Probably more than just that ( I snatched those from a Most Valuable Coins in Circulation web site and I know there are tons more) but after four hours I was a bit punchy.  And I smelled like the inside of my mouth after the Big Lug drove us over the ice moguls that once disguised themselves as our street.  (I bit my tongue.  And blood tastes coppery.  Or is that TMI?)

So, yesterday I started on the giant pickle jar (Costco is wonderful) in which I put the other pocket change.  I was totally ready for those Big Things, those retirement-fattening finds.  I sorted and I shifted and I studied, and I found ... two silver dimes.

Compared to the excitement of the Copper Quest, this was pretty anticlimactic.  Turns out, there's not too many valuable quarters, dimes, or nickels that aren't silver.  Oh, the state quarters have their Wisconsin 2004-D (with an extra leaf) that I searched for (separately, luckily - states are in their own container for the grandkids), and there's always the double-struck things to find (are they really out there anywhere?).  But I expected ... hoped for ... more.  Yet I got ... well, it was the dimes, and the fact that I found my standing magnifier, that made me crazy.  I was looking so hard.  In fact, until the moment I started putting them in stacks and just looking at the edges, it never occured to me there was a faster way to search.

Duh, the normal, everyday silver pieces are clad, which means sandwiched  with copper instead of solid.  A couple of bucks' worth of dimes or quarters looks like a gigantic, silver-and-reddish Oreo when held between the fingers.  And when you get one that's pure, there's no date reading required - the older coin gleams like Double Stuff under black light.

Maybe I skimped on the misstrikes (I did a quick visual as I pulled the required number for each roll).  But I look at it this way - I'm leaving more for you to find.

Hits and Misses

We're about to get hammered by snow again. I didn't think I'd ever go stir crazy, not with all the stuff I need to do around here, but the ducks are circling, prepared to nibble. See, another foot is predicted, and there's only so much shovelling I can do before my back protests. Loudly. Quacking.

Not that it affects today's post. Okay, it does. I had the time (no tutorials ... again) to pull out the gold tester the Big Lug got me for Christmas. Some I tried for the first time (even if I've had them awhile), and some I retried (because I wasn't sure). Overall, I had some ... interesting results.

First the bad news. Remember those shell earrings, the possible white gold because one was marked "14K"?  Guess what?  They're not.  Pretty, yes.  Gold, no.  And here I was, all set to do some helpful hints on telling white gold from silver.  Note to self - in the future when I see black crud inside the curve of the earring that I think is just schmutz, I'll realize the vendor tested the piece and it turned black from the gel ... which means it's silver! ("Dumbass" is implied.  You got that, right?)

On the other hand, all of the charms (and one of the chains) in the right-hand picture are white gold, and all were priced as silver or even steel (as was my fabulous pin, ensconsed in a permanent place of honor in the upper left corner of the site, and my first diamond - a pendant, sold on a silver chain, for just under $4).  They're gone now (the charms), sold for scrap ... for about $50 ... which is about twice what I paid for all of them (and I kept the chains).

Oh, and lest you think I'm whining about my lousy fortune, I'm not. For you see, next to those fickle seashells sits a pair of earrings marked "925," "14K," and "Tiffany & Co." Since they're marked twice (on post and earring) and since one of the clutchbacks is also marked "T & Co" (and I found a couple of comparables) I'm 90% certain they actually are.

Plus, this watch, though plated, has four very pretty diamonds on it. That isn't as uncommon as you think - do you honestly believe this is the only time in history that gold has reached insane prices?

Now maybe you understand why, despite the possibilities for error, I never walk away from a neat silver (or silvery) piece. Especially when it sparkles.

Of course, there were some great hits, as well. Not from recent activity (alas) but from the year, yes.  The smokey quartz earrings have marked clutchbacks (which would explain the $5 price tag), but nothing on the earrings (which would explain the $5 price tag).  The pearls ($2) and the amethyst-and-CZ ring ($3) had no markings at all when bought (I added the clutchbacks).  Yet everything there tested 14K.  Why did I buy them?  There were no variations in color (darker, lighter, greenish), no "seams" or "rubs," plus they all had both a nice heft and creamy, match-my-wedding-band hue (my eyeball test of choice).  I'm not always right (steep learning curve) but I'm getting better.

I then tested some marked things I've been afraid to test before today, things that were such good deals they had to be bad. Like the Cadillac emblem I really thought was a thistle when I saw it there on the blanket at the flea market (for $1), and the bracelet ($20) I picked up at a neighborhood sale (with two old silver rings thrown in). Both tested to the mark - 14K. That's ... 2.6 plus 8.7 ... 11 grams of gold. And the pieces on the right, too - the stones are Rhodochrosite but the clasp and beads are 14K, as are those CZ-not-diamond-covered "doorknockers". (The others are from reputable places ... trusted, tested, or sold for scrap at some point in the past.)

I had fun with my newest addiction - service pins (with a few others thrown in). The flight pin is marked 10K (and is), the "Lutheran" pin is 9K (simply marked "gold"), and the rest are 14K. The bee was given to me by a nice vendor at a flea because I helped her set up.  The two Mason tie tacks were in a box lot (I sold another piece in the box for scrap and paid for the whole thing).  The kite-shaped school pin (1.3 g)was in a mixed bag of stuff ($5) at an antique mall. The religious pin I found along with about a dozen others for a buck a piece (plated, sterling, or just interesting) at a flea. And the check mark and round tie tacks were both on a card full of miscellaneous small pins at a thrift shop ($1.50 for the entire card) - yes, though unmarked both test as 14K.

Some other marked pieces tested badly, of course - a seeming emerald-and-diamond ring ("14K") that is green-and-white-glass instead (and plated, not solid), and a service pin marked "10K" that registered negative on my tester. (I don't even know what that means.) But overall, I loved refreshing my Bargain Hunter's optimism instead of reinforcing the Dark Side pessimist.

And it probably helps that the Big Lug is baking bread.

Ah, Heaven!

Project Finished!

Well, the yearly Assets v. Obligations is officially over. Last year I was down 20% or so from my previous (first) year at this whole retire-well thing. This year, thanks to consumer debt down by two-thirds from the beginning, and investments not only bouncing back but ticking along fat, we are not only up but up from last year but up more than 15% from the first year.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

Next year ... no consumer debt, focused investment, and (duh) much treasure to add to the coffers. It's gonna be grand.

Sins of Omission

Well, it's been one heck of a week. Lots of good intentions plus few follow-throughs equals many forgottens. For example, I forgot to mention the final blog's name in my last post - "Frugal Findings." (I hate it when I get all poodle-brained!) And I forgot to call a potential client for four days. (Hopefully, he's still a potential!) I also neglected to go to Weight Watchers to weigh in this month (I was waiting until my vacation weight started falling off by itself) and, since my weekend was crazy, missed every meeting entirely. Finally, I forgot to take the pictures I needed to do the posting I'd actually planned to do today.

I've been busy. That's good, of course - the spring testing season is in full swing, which means a steady paycheck until summer - but it blew in so fast I couldn't catch my breath, much less my organizational skills (such as they are). And though I refuse to teach before noon on Saturdays now, I was booked solid anyway on this first one of the season ... by my beautiful little Princess. I was the wheels for all her morning appointments while Head Trip worked, and then I had classes the rest of the day. Because of all this calendar-booking, I haven't hunted since my last post. Not once. Not anywhere.

I feel wrong, not in the itchy, need-my-fix way I used to feel, but in the borderline-autistic, my-hat-is-in-the-wrong-place-so-let-me-just-rock-in-the-corner way. I wish I could get to a thrift store today, but I've been trying to get through the yearly Assets versus Obligations that I'm not going to neglect just because I changed my blog to treasure hunting (no matter how much I want to neglect it). I have tutorials and classes all afternoon and evening, too, so I really must get on this. And go to the store (we're expecting snow this weekend). And take a long overdue walk (which also might explain the poodle-brain). And get Christmas finally cleared away. Completely.

(Yes, I feel italics are motivators. Shut up.)

So in the absence of my original post, I will summarize (below). However, I will (damn, that's a bad habit!) take pictures and give my own thoughts next time.

Happy hunting!

http://www.wikihow.com/Tell-if-Gold-Is-Real

http://www.enchantedlearning.com/jewel/pages/gold.shtml

http://en.allexperts.com/q/Jewelry-Gems-Minerals-689/White-gold-amateur-tell.htm

http://ezinearticles.com/?Gold-Plated-Or-Real?-Critical-Information-You-Need-To-Know-When-Buying-Jewelry!&id=975611