Meeting The Jeweller And The Auctioneer

That is really poetic licence; not strictly true. You get the gist, though. I motored in to Belfast this morning - after coffee - and, having experienced much difficulty in parking, I managed to procure a space in Gloucester Street. It must have taken twenty-five minutes to park!

Ambling across to Arthur Street, on my way to another jeweller, I noticed a jeweller's shop called Margaret Forbes. It may have been at the site where Hanna's old jewellery shop used to be. Walking in to inquire about getting my two signet rings re-sized, I didn't know what to expect. However, they can resize rings; and, what's more, they believe that it may be feasible to stretch my rings, because the gold is 22 carat and, therefore, soft.

I liked what I heard, so I asked them for an estimate and how long it would take - one week. If, as they say, the rings can be stretched I'd much prefer that method as opposed to cutting the ring and adding extra gold.

I left Margaret Forbes and headed over to Ross's auction-house in Montgomery Street where I had arranged to see about the wooden television cabinet which had been lying there, gathering dust, for weeks. I have always been curious to know the job description of those chaps in grey aprons who do all the donkey work at auction-rooms. Now I know: they are known as sale-room porters. In the end, it was a simple transaction: the porter let it go for eight pounds; he unearthed it from the bowels of the lower sale-room; carried it to my car; placed it - just - in the boot; and I handed him a tenner; I secured it with rope and canvas; and off I drove on my merry way!

I have left the "new" cabinet in the garage, beside our old telly, until I'm ready to deal with it.

It has proved to be a fruitful morning.