That’s no Fabergé

Ok, this post isn't about the adorable Pappy, but I found something interesting! 

It was at an estate sale on 7th and H. You know, the one we passed the flyer for yesterday? The egg was just sitting there on top of a box labeled “junk.” To be fair, pretty much everything there was junk. People said Mrs. Lancaster was a notorious collector of knickknacks and souvenirs, the kind of stuff most normal humans throw in the trash after a week. 

Evidently, her grandkids had a heck of a time cleaning out her garage after she died. There was stuff EVERYWHERE!

I had almost passed up the entire fare when I saw the weird egg. 

Pappy actually pulled me to it. He's a genius! 

It reminded me of this weird ornament my mom used to put on the Christmas tree, all blue and silver and glass. This was more solid and felt heavier than it should have been. I don't think it's made of glass but it doesn't feel like metal.

And it's weird!

It vibrates in my hand and the silver veins sometimes don't show my reflection, not even distorted. If I look close, I can see a blurry image of a landscape of strange buildings and plants. The scene's enchanting and looks almost real. Super cool! The craftsmanship is exquisite. I paid the asking price of fifty cents and never looked back.

I don't know where the egg came from or if it's worth anything, but it's cool and it's unique. It seems super old. I'll keep it next to my bed, I think. 

The yard sale guy said it was a Fabergé.

It is definitely not a Fabergé.

Pappy smelled it once and now he doesn't like it. He's silly. 

Wag you later!