This way to the Unloved Garage Sale!

It’s amazing how many things we moved from Prescott to Walla Walla, not because we needed them anymore, but because time was of the essence. The miracle of the last few loads when moving is classic, the virtual throwing of things that don’t go with each other in any meaningful way into the same box, and, when you run out of boxes, pitching those last few items into your car (thankfully, it’s an SUV) or, if you’re extremely lucky, a kind neighbor’s horse trailer. The whole experience conjures the term “Garage Sale.”

Yes, we are having a garage sale. I’m delighted to announce the predicted high temperature for our special day, August 4, 2018, is less than 90 degrees Fahrenheit. In view of the past few sweltering weeks, I’ll believe it when I see it. But, if the crystal ball gazers are right, the temperature will rise to a mere 87 degrees, amplified by the pale gray concrete driveway where our sale will be staged. Kiss the sunscreen and pass the juleps!

Weather is but one unappealing factor of our garage sale. Our central tenant is, we both hate garage sales. But what else to do with tools that are no longer needed for the pioneer lifestyle we’ve recently abandoned? Okay, I’m exaggerating the demands of a two-acre parcel as opposed to caring for one-third acre with a house on half of it. But only a little. The thing about living 20 miles out of town as we did until recently is, if something breaks you need to fix it. Sometimes with chewing gum and baling wire. Which we’ll be offering for sale in large quantities.

We’re also shedding the trappings of our show biz cowboy identities. Picture this: western shirts for men and women, some of them gaudy enough to wear to the opera with Great Aunt Bess. So if you do, in fact, have a Great Aunt Bess, come see us.

What about all the little bits and pieces? Throw ‘em all in one box marked “Two for $.25” The last buyer before closing gets everything left in the box for $.25. Seriously.

Of course we are offering some “big” items. A relatively new push mower. A serviceable but elderly vacuum cleaner. A chainsaw. A rarely-used spray gun. Beer making equipment priced at $20, all or nothing. If you wish to give us $20 for nothing, be my guest.

Given the summer heat, we’ll start our sale at 7:30. Yes, that’s AM. As we peacefully sipped today’s morning coffee we experienced that “come to Jesus” moment when we realized how much we’d have to do on sale day before we opened shop. We generally rise before 6 AM, but still- -feeding the pets, mandatory caffeine consumption, getting dressed, throwing down some breakfast so we’re more than a pile of bleached bones in the driveway by day’s end. And that all has to happen before dragging our goods out of the garage and tacking sale signs to every telephone pole in the county. You can say “no early birds” all you want, but when the herd of garage sale zombies descends on your street. . .good luck and it was nice knowing you.

Some friends of ours who live six blocks from here have promised to come by and laugh at us. You see, they love garage sales even more than we do. They once had a garage sale in this very town and grossed (wait for it) a hefty $4.00. No, I have not left out any zeroes.

Maybe by Saturday afternoon we’ll be happy and content, stowing those few, very few, remaining items back in the garage and hiding a huge wad of cash- -well, I won’t tell you where. But just in case it turns out otherwise, didn’t I hear someone say juleps?

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