Of Mice and Men...and Blogs

The best laid plans of mice and men (and blogs) oft go askew. What do I mean by that? The thing is, during the summer break, I was planning on writing almost every day, getting discovered by a newspaper publisher who was looking for an upbeat commentator, (not to be confused with the Idaho spud...which is a common tater), and then extending my summer break to include fall, winter, spring and perhaps summer again. This break would include traveling around the U.S. in our brand new 35 foot Newmar motor home of course. But things seemed to go askew. Want to hear about it? Here we go.

I am sitting on my living room couch. I know what you are thinking, "Big-heaping-helping-of-Foster-Farms-turkey. Get on with it." You see, I am sitting on my living room couch that has been moved to the front room in front of the corner windows. It is morning. The family is asleep. And I am beginning to write. The reason the couch is here is reorganization. We are moving things around in a big way. It all started with the garage sale and I would love to say that it ended with me sitting here, but it isn't quite complete and we are running out of days before I scoot myself back to work. That is one of the main reasons that I haven't been able to write as much as I would have liked. We are so busy.

I did want to talk a bit about the actual garage sale, which was an experience, and I suppose now is as good a time as ever. Ours was the garage of legend, where cardboard boxes go to die and baseballs are never seen again. We had been approached by archaeologists from 13 major universities to perform a "dig." I feel so badly about the families from those teams...but they knew the risk. At it's worst we tried to time when cars would go by so we could open and shut the doors before anyone could see in. To get from one side to another involved scooting, stepping, moving, and shuffling. It was also a two person job because we had to displace objects out of our way to move into its space and it was always easiest to hand things to another person. I joked that I was going to officially name the garage "Away" because whenever I told the kids to put something away, they would walk to the furthest point in and drop. Enough about the dark past, let's get on with the bright future.

Sylvia and I began going through the garage a few weeks ago with a definite date in mind for the garage sale. We have learned that the date is key. Without an actual date your garage sale items are really just a pile of junk that will meld into things that the kids will drag out to play with "one more time" and then put "away." It became very clear that we were serious and we dedicated a place for the sale. It started with a few boxes toward the front. Then we started going through boxes from Sylvia's 5th grade classroom, her 2nd grade classroom, my special ed. classroom, and her kindergarten classroom...all of which are no longer taught by us. We had four classrooms worth of materials in our garage waiting to be gone through. More boxes in the sale pile.

Then there was the pile of stuff from my bachelor apartment...in a box for fifteen years? More boxes into the pile. The kids got the fever...more boxes added. Our book shelves...more boxes. The kids' toy cabinet...check. On and on and on... All told we ended up with more boxes than I am even willing to admit and I certainly didn't count them (which would have been my nature but I was too depressed by the sheer mass). We even had a few friends who, when they found out we were having a sale, added a little to the boxes.

We placed the ad into the free paper here and on Craigs List. We made signs, obnoxious neon orange signs that could probably have been seen from space, and put them out the night before. We were set. And at 6 in the morning when the alarm went off we dragged ourselves out of bed to drag our stuff out to the driveway. On borrowed tables and moving blankets we laid out all of our treasures to show the world that we, in the past, had been incapable of letting things go. Not anymore.

My mom and dad came over to help. Bless their hearts. And by 7 we had a respectable showing of items out with still more in the garage. We also had customers. You see, when you advertise 8 O'clock the professional garage salers read 7 O'clock. Some of them will even "help" you go through boxes as you are putting them out. It was unbelievable. It was also a mob scene. From 7 to about 12:30 we were swamped with constant comings and goings and a few honks from the traffic jams around our house. Not to make you feel bad if you've ever had a lackluster turnout at your sale...we have an ideal location for this type of thing. When it died down a bit I thought, "Whew! We are going to get a lunch break after all." And then it turned 12:40 and we were off again! It continued like this until 4, the advertised closing time, and then it slowed as we put things away. We had strangers on our lawn until about 5.

Strangers implies that we didn't know these people. I don't want to give the impression that they were stra...well let me think a minute. Maybe... There were people looking for bargains, check. There were people looking for gifts, check. There were people looking for teacher supplies, quadruple check. And then there were the people who seemed to buy anything.

"Does this work?"
"Nope."
"I'll take it."

"Are these real?"

"Not even close."

"Set me up."

"How many bowling pins are in this set?"
"Four."
"Add it to my pile."
"Ok, see you on Hoarders."
"Huh?"
"Nothing...50 cents."

I even had a woman who claimed to live in a tent that wanted to buy an old can of oil. I didn't sell it to her. I do have a conscience.

And then we had these guys...

"How much for this antique watch?"
"It was my grandmother's. It's solid gold and has always kept perfect time. That nick on the face is from when she fainted while meeting the Queen. There is a certificate of authenticity in the velvet lined case...we are asking for a hundred and twenty dollars."
"Will you take a dime?"
"Umm. No....(it's really hard to 'say' puzzled expression mixed with contempt)..."

(Honestly, the watch didn't exist but you get the idea.)

So in the smoldering aftermath we have now a few dollars in our pockets, a lot less stuff, and a van that fits into the garage. I'd say it was a success. It is also nice to not have all of these things to deal with. It's free-ing! It's nice. It really, really is. It is also a way for us to see that we could move the couch over here, and the piano over there, and if we put a bookshelf here that would make room for a desk there...good thing I can get to my tools.

We're not going to overdo it though. We are taking time for ourselves. This weekend we are going to go visit garage sales...kidding!