Garage sales

Yep, that's right, I'm pondering garage sales.

I've had 2 this summer. They're a lot of hard work for not a lot of profit. You watch things you paid a lot of money for sell for pennies to the dollar. Stuff...it's just stuff you don't want anymore.

I found it's where you separate the stuff from the treasures.

We're moving as I'm sure you know. We've been in this house for 23 years. I won't miss the house.

We've been in this town for 32 years. I won't miss this town.

I sold a lot of stuff today. I won't miss any of it.

I almost did. I almost made a mistake but thanks to some rude dipshit, I didn't.

I have a porch swing. It's got a painted black, metal frame. Kind of rusty around the springs. The seat is made of 1X2's painted brick red. The paint is chipped off in places, peeling in others, and just plain gone on some spots. Those 1X2's are fastened to the painted black metal frame with 2 inch machine screws. The screws stick way below the boards...will tear your skin if it comes in contact with them.

I put $25 on this swing.

I like it, it's comfy, I swing in it often. It just won't 'go' in Florida. It won't fit in with the decor.

A man. Oh, no, I have to elaborate. A fat, greasy haired, scraggly bearded, dirty man, with a big belly stretching his dirty tee shirt, hanging over the top of his dirty jeans, man, is the one that changed my mind.

I was sitting on the swing and he came up and first pissed me off by calling me 'Little Missy'. He said, and I do quote here, "I'm going to do you a favor and give you $5 for this piece of shit. Nobody else is going to buy it."

Now, I know I'm out to make money, but my ass was instantly chapped. I couldn't help it and instead of being polite, out of my mouth popped 'Don't do me any favors pardner.' He told me I'd be sorry, he told me I'd be begging someone to buy it. He left.

I re-evaluated my $25 price tag on the swing and I changed it. To $35.

I sat there and swang, and was very happy with my decision. I realized that I didn't really want to sell my swing. I changed the price to $45. I swang some more. I was so content swinging. I thought about the beginnings of this ugly swing.

Back in the day, and we're talking early 1970's, my mom bought a swing. It was a shiny framed swing with a bright yellow, mesh type seat. It sat under the 3 trunked maple in the front yard on Houghton Lake. I loved it. I sat in it and read. I met a man and we'd sit there at night, on that swing, and talk for hours. My mom would sit on that swing with me. My dad would sit on that swing with me. Eventually my children sat on that swing with me. The old yellow mesh seat finally gave way. It just fell apart and the old swing frame went into the garage.

Several years later my Dad pulled into my driveway with that swing hanging out of the trunk of his car. My Dad was not a handy man. He stripped the paint on the frame and painted it shiny black. He sawed 1X2's and painted them carefully with brick red paint. He drilled holes and screwed those boards onto that frame. He did it all for me as he knew I always loved that swing. He was so proud of himself when he brought that over. I've sat on it at my home for years. My Dad would sit on it right here on my porch before he died.

I sit in that swing and all the good memories of my Dad just flit in and out of my mind.

I almost screwed up and sold that swing. It is going to go perfectly in my home in Florida.

If any of you know who that asshat was that told me nobody would buy my swing....

Tell him he was right. It's not for sale. You can't sell memories.

:-)