Garage Sales & Bad Influences
|In a mad attempt to make some extra cash for our upcoming vacation, Ramona and I held a multi-family garage sale over the weekend. It might have been because of the massive amounts of CRAP that we've accumulated through the years (especially the 8o's) that made it anything but an enormous success.|
Her stash: A giant fuzzy purple spider that's legs kept falling off, metallic wicker baskets, and collector's plates with bears in bows.
My stash: Plastic see-through shoes, a rusty kid's bicycle without a seat, a collection of humanized cows in clothing, and a refrigerator so old that it doesn't even have a freezer- and we're not talking about the cool rounded kind of fridge with the pull handle, but a yellow 1970's kind of fridge. (Still here. Any takers?)
Oh! And let us not forget about the HUGE pile of self help books from a friend of a friend. (The books apparently don't help much.) By Saturday afternoon we were making people take things. Forcing our junk upon them. Putting stuff in their cars when they weren't looking.
So yesterday was to be a busy busy, take charge kind of day. Lots to do (including a mountain of laundry that quite literally reaches my chest). But it was a hot sunny day and Ramona being the bad influence she is, BEGGED me to go swimming at her house and drink sangria. Okay, she didn't beg but she did invite lots of other people and I can't miss out on a pool party- I simply had to say that for the guilt factor, and not to mention that all I do that is unproductive and/or evil is entirely someone else's fault.
So TODAY. Really. Will get lots and lots done. Really.
Oh! And Thursday? The Donatella look will be gone. GONE.