May 2005 Archives

This past Memorial Day weekend, we had our garage sale. It was a mammoth 3-day event reminscent of a tent sale, but did fairly well. We got rid of a gool deal of useless crap and put it in the hands of others for whom it will not (yet) be considered useless crap. However, one meets some strange characters at these sales. There are a few major classes we've found, especially living in the area we're in.

First, there are the pros. They sweep in based off of the ad in the paper and come to ask for specific things. Tools? Watches? Antiques? Photo equipment? Extremely valuable objects you want to sell to someone for 1/100th their price? I guess they get enough hits to make the thousands of "um...no?" responses they get worthwhile.

Second, there are the families out for a drive. Volvos. Saabs. In one case a Hummer H2. On a drive, usually from place A to place B just happening across a sale. They don't seek it out, but will stop to buy a wetsuit. Or a mattress and boxspring. Or an armoire. Just 'cause.

Third, there are the serious "bargain hunters." These are the people that will tell you that a Quarter is just "crazy!" and much too much to ask for a slightly-used Boeing 747 Jumbo Jet, and would I take a Dime. They will pick over 5000 pieces of clothing and pull out 6 random items 15 minutes after the sale has begun on day one and ask if they could have it for half price. They are the people I have the least patience for, and the ones that went away mostly frustrated. Buh-bye.

Finally, we have the serious oddballs. We got two or three of those. People you can spot from across the county as "um...I think they're coming this way. Better hide." Here was one story:

There was this one woman yesterday, built like a fireplug, who came bounding up looking like something out of "Awakenings", asking what we had that's Disney, because "I collect Disney". The fact that every square inch of her body was festooned with disney memorabilia probably would have hinted to us that fact had she not mentioned it, but of course, she did. Several times. And yet, when we offered things like Finding Nemo happy meal stuff, she said, "no, only classic disney," which she also said to Tigger slippers and some other apparently-not-classic-enough-disney. Eventually, armed with 3 random stuffed animals, only one of which was disney as far as I could tell, Tinkerbell wandered off to spread Disney goodness and light for anyone else who happened to have cheap crap that resembled a mouse or a duck on their lawns.

Oh, yes, and I'm sore as hell all over from the seemingly endless stairs between the attic and the basement. But at least we delivered the bomb.

So I'm at Ellen's T-Ball game, as previously commented upon a sometimes amusing, usually painful experience. But this time, I brought my laptop. And my treo. And I'm posting this from the laptop, via the treo (connected with bluetooth), connected celularly to the 'net.

It's not fast (about 40kbps). It's not sexy. But it's really really cool.

**Addendum**

OK, so Ellen hit the ball, ran to first...and then to second (heedless of the person ON second), and to third, with the person on second then trailing her but past the person on third, and then all the way home. Leaving 2 people still standing on the bases and some confused, but amused coaches in her wake.

Tonight, Kim and I decided we'd settle down early to watch the Lemony Snicket movie on DVD. About 8:45 we finished dinner, kids were long in bed, and we flipped the movie. Then the fun began.

9:15, Ellen comes down. "I have a headache." Turns out she really did feel awful, and Kim went up and laid with her for about 30 minutes. She reported the following story later this evening:

"I was lying down with Ellen and stroking her forhead and I started singing to her "On Top Of Spaghetti", like I used to when she was a baby. About half-way through, she starts BAWLING and I said, "Honey, what's the matter?" She says, "The poor meatball...it's had such a hard life..."

10:15: Katie comes downstairs, crying. Kim goes up to take care of her, and then back 10 minutes later.

10:45: Katie comes down again, telling Kim that her "Twinkie" hurt.

"Your Twinkie? what's your twinkie?" Kim asks.
"You know, this finger", Katie responded, pointing to her middle finger.

The movie never got finished. By 11:00 we just gave up. The twinkie was just too much for us.

It is nearly impossible to describe what a t-ball game played between 20 six year old girls is like unless you have had it inflicted on you. However, I will try...

Girl 1 is currently playing with first. That seems to mean that she is standing vaguely near the bag with a glove on, talking to the girl who has "hit" her way on and tipping the bag over repeatedly.

Girl 2, my daughter Ellen, is "playing second," which, in this case might mean facing home plate, or not. It might mean tossing a rubber base-like thing in the air. It seems, at the moment the ball is hit, to mean that she should run around second base in circles. Sometimes it just means put down your glove and play in the dirt. Actually, it seems to mean that pretty often.

Girl 3, Jane, is standing on second. It's unclear what "position" this is, but apparently in involves a great deal of sitting on the base, along with some twirling.

Girl 4, Emily, is currently hugging the girl on second. She too is standing on second. Her glove is long discarded in favor of a handful of dirt.

All of the girls that are at least looking at the "batter" when the ball is hit generally run at the ball. They are currently fighting for it, and there is a great deal of sliding and rolling. Quite a bit more rolling than i've seen in most ball games.

There is no one at third. One of the girls are kicking it down into right field. Someone is lying amongst the dandilions. She might be asleep.

All the girls bat. All of them score. No outs. No end.

God, help me.