We had our moving sale on Saturday, but it wasn't much of a moving experience. As in we didn't move that much crap out of this house. At the end of the day I had nearly a hundred dollars in my pocket, and I suspect Mark had even more. But when I looked around after everybody had left, I still saw a giant pile of stuff laying around here. The way we worked it, Mark had all the nice things set up in the living room for people to paw through, and I had all the stuff from the yard and shed out on the deck. So while Mark was sitting pretty in air conditioned comfort, I was outside in ninety degree heat and humidity trying to talk people into giving me money for the opportunity to haul away crap that I would be happy to just throw into a dumpster. Anyway, it was determined that after my nearly passing out from dehydration, there would be no more moving sales. All this stuff was going to be taken to charity resale shops or be sold to used book stores. Whatever the outcome, once it leaves this property it isn't coming back.
For years I have been nagging Mark about his shopping. I have pointed out that buying something because it is on sale does not save you money if you don't need that thing. Saturday all the evidence I needed to prove that was spread around the house for Mark to see. For sale on Saturday were all kinds of unused, unopened, and unneeded crap. A package of drink coasters in the shape of sliced bread, still in the unopened cellophane package. Numerous dog collars with price tags still on them. A set of never used Mason jars with all the things you would need for canning including the giant water-bath canner and tongs for pulling the hot jars from it. Our house was literally a small version of Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Now I don't know what Mark was charging for the stuff in the living room, but out on the deck things were flying out of there. It didn't matter what I was offered, I took the money. I sold my old shop vacuum for one dollar. Some guy asked me if it worked and I told him to take a chance on it for a dollar. He did, and it was no longer in my yard. I was selling the lawn furniture, the lawn ornaments, and if somebody had wanted it I'd have sold them the lawn. Actually somebody did want me to dig up a shrub and sell it to her, but by that time I was soaked with sweat and over it all. How hot and tired was I? Well right at the end of the sale one of our customers started talking some nonsense about love and her father or something like that. Then standing there in our living room she handed Mark a little red pamphlet, and turned to me and gave me one. I looked at it, then looked at her and said, "Thank you." Something I never say to somebody who is selling religion.