Sometimes you just have to buy something no matter what. That's what being a true collector is all about. Unfortunately, it requires money to buy an item regardless of its cost. For me, spending $100 on a single item has always been a big deal. Recently, however, I set what was probably an auction record for a piece of pottery. It was certainly an auction record for me as far as personal spending.

I blame my mom for this. She called to tell me to be sure to read an ad in my hometown newspaper. It listed two Annapolis, pottery vases. Annapolis, Ind., is in Parke County, and at one time it was home to a thriving pottery business. My dad was born in a farmhouse near Annapolis and pottery from the firm is in my Parke County collection. Most of what I have is early 20th century straight-sided pieces, but I do own two 19th century salt-glazed storage jars.

I had never heard of Annapolis pottery vases. According to the seller, women whose husbands worked at the pottery used leftover clay to make pieces in the evening. The auctioneer had asked another collector in the county and she confirmed she had also heard the women making vases and knickknacks with leftover clay. I was told there was a newspaper article in an early Parke County paper anout the women, but no one knew the exact date or where to look for the article.

As luck would have it, my brothers and I recently sold some of our farmland. I paid off my major debts and still had some money left over. Mom said I should invest it. That seemed like sound advice. Then she called to tell me about the vases in this auction. I wanted those vases. The check from the land sale arrived in my mailbox the week before the auction.

A collector with a sudden influx of cash is a dangerous thing. I threw all caution to the wind and made plans to travel back to Parke County for this auction.

The vases were not pictured in the auction ad. Of course, in my mind they took on epic proportions. The vases I saw in my head were worthy of Rookwood or Newcomb College. The more I thought about them, the more convinced I became that I was going to buy the vases no matter what the cost. I was every auctioneer's dream come true.

The day of the auction dawned bright and clear. It was an absolutely perfect day for an outdoor auction. The auction did not start until 10 A.M., but I ended up leaving Mom's house at 8. I was too excited; I had to see those vases. I was one of the first people at the auction.

I hate to think of what my blood pressure and pulse rate were when I walked up the lawn to the items covering a large wagon and numerous tables. A quick look at the table full of stoneware and another table covered with pottery told me that the vases I was looking for were not there. On the screened in back porch, I could see the auction cashier had set up a table for numbers. Another small table nearby was full also, but it was hard to see what was on the table. However, I decided the vases must be near the cahier for safekeeping and it turned out I was correct.

My first sight of the vases brought tears to my eyes, althought they were not tears of joy. The vases in no way resembled the beautiful, graceful pieces residing in my head. As a matter of fact, I thought they were fairly ugly. The form was clunky and the applied flowers were certainly not the work of a trained or even highly inspired artist. To top it off, they had been painted and the paint was not original. I later learned they had been painted in the early 1970s when they were used to hold flowers during a wedding.

But, I had driven all that way, and I did have all that money just burning a hole in my savings account. I picked the vases up and examined them.

I wrestled with myself about what to do: Stay and bid on the vases or leave and not be tempted. It turned out the auction had quite a few interesting Parke County pieces, so I decided to stay. The longer I stayed, the more I thought about those vases. The more I saw other people looking and talking about the vases, the more attractive they seemed. I decided I was just being too picky. After all, the vases were most likely made by women with absolutely no art training. And they did have one interesting thing going for them. Each vase had one flower that was applied upside down so that the flower petals were smashed into the vase rather than sticking out from the clay. One of the vases was initialed on the back, but the other was not. Neither vase was perfect. Both had broken flower petals and stems. And what made them most attractive was that I didn't know of anyone else who had these vases. For a collector, that's the true hook.

The vases of course sold near the end of the auction. I kept finding myself on the losing end of several interesting Parke County items because all I could think about was the vases and I wondered what they would sell for. Did I really mean to own them at any cost? Even as the auctioneer finally brought the vases to the auction block, I still had not made up my mind what I intended to do.

But, my bidding arm evidently knew exactly what it was doing. The auctioneer asked for a starting bid of $100 and I noticed that I was raising my hand. Only two people bid on the vases. My competitor was someone I knew, which made me uncomfortable. I know you can't have friends at an auction, but I still hate bidding against someone I know. I didn't hate it so much that I stopped bidding though. The bidding was moving along, but at around $425, I had as much stress as I could take and I decided to see what my competitor was made of. I jumped the bid to $500. By this time everyone at the auction was silent. My mom was not even looking at me anymore and I saw some poeple shaking their heads.

The auctioneer asked the other bidder to up the ante, but he declined. Suddenly, the auctioneer cried sold and it was up to me then to decide whether I wanted both vases or just one. I had fully intended to own them both. But, since I wasn't that excited by them to begin with, the thought of having $1000 tied up in something I might never prove to be Annapolis seemed daunting. I took the vase with the initials. The backup bidder took the seccond vase for $500. That really made people shake their heads.

It's a wonder I didn't drop the vase on the way to the van. My hands were shaking really hard and my heart was pounding. I had visions of one of the cats running through the house and knocking the vase over. I thought about taking it to work and putting it on a shelf, but then worried it would get knocked off. In the end, I cleaned out my only glass-fronted cupboard and made space for the vase. It now sits beside my Overbeck squirrel, which is one of my other treasures.

It may not be the most beautiful thing I'll ever own, but I do not regret buying it. After all I am a collector.

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