Had a yard sale yesterday, the first of the various pausing points I've been working toward in the process I'm involved in. (And that is a fine example of a long, convoluted sentence that says just about nothing.) A multi-family affair, three other households on the hill here bringing over carloads of STUFF and setting up on either side of my long dirt driveway. One of the upsides of the event: it's cleared out bunches of STUFF that have been accumulating in the two rooms in the far end of the house. Creating enough space to allow me to generate a whole new mess to fill in the vacuum.
One of the things this process has clarified: it's not much fun doing it alone. Could be a stupidly obvious truth for most people, but there it is. Going through a houseful of accumulated possessions, preparing for the sale (and for other parts to come in this long process), carting all the STUFF down to the garage and setting it up. Would be much more fun with (a) a partner/sweetheart, (b) a friend or friends, or (c) a sherpa or personal slave or two. (To the many friends who have conveniently avoided making their way to this beautiful backwater while I'm wading through this process: don't think I haven't noticed your convenient absence. And don't think I won't bring it up at convenient moments in the future. Harrumph.)
Cleaned up the garage in stages, pulling stuff of corners and crannies, some of it STUFF left by the previous owners (pause to stifle unkind comments about said p.o.'s, followed by moment of grinding teeth due to suppressed angst). Swept both bays, cleared out cobwebs, spiderwebs, and far too many dead insect corpses. Began carrying stuff down late Friday.
It's been raining here most every day, storms trudging through unpredictably, the weather report for yesterday morning changing on a day by day basis. Friday's forecast claimed Sat. would be the only rainless day during this long, moist haul. Woke up at 2 a.m. Sat. morning, the sound of rainfall drifting in the open window. Pulled myself to my feet, wandered into bathroom, stood gazing sleepily out window. What I saw: the full moon hanging in the southern sky, shining amiably while the sound of heavy rain continued outside. A moonshower. Not something I'd ever experienced until this week, and for some reason this week brought two of 'em. Tuesday or Wednesday night, the wee hours found me in the bathroom, torrential rain falling outside. I drew the shades, cracked the window, the sound suddenly loud enough and the air filtering in cool enough to suggest the feeling of standing behind a waterfall. And out there in the eastern night sky, the moon -- nearly full, the dark shadings on its face sketching the classic image of someone gazing down, smiling enigmatically. While rain continued pounding on the roof.
When that kind of things happens during the day in these parts, the likely product is rainbows, some warm seasons bringing a bumper crop of them. And what about when it happens at night? Do ghostly moon rainbows cut soft arcs in the night sky? Probably not. Nice thought though.
Northern Vermont, 7/14/07:
Usually when I find myself awake at that unfortunate time of the night, drifting back off to sleep without much struggle. If necessary, a light goes on, a book gets opened for a while. Saturday morning –- yesterday morning -- I didn't manage to drift back off until just before 6, daylight seeping in around the windowshades. Woke up an hour later with a jerk, my bleary brain already going on about the heap of work that awaited, trying to force itself up to working speed.
Got up, got showered, got shaved, got dressed. Stumbled around the kitchen for a few then got to work, carrying stuff down to garage, setting up. Neighbors taking part began showing up around 8:30. I'd painted a couple of signs the previous afternoon -- tossed them in the car just before the hour, brought 'em downhill, displayed them by the two-lane. Returned to house/garage/neighbors, finished setting up while the others stood around outside chatting. People came and went in a steady trickle, not in great waves. (A more heavily-traveled location would have brought more people. A gravel road up a hill brought a trickle.) And while my STUFF did not go flying out of the garage in great shelf-clearing torrents of consumerism, enough went at a steady enough pace that I wound up with $80 when I headed off to town at noon. Encouraging enough that I'll be doing two more in the weeks to come, maybe three more. And after that trips to Salvation Army, to recycling, to the dump transfer station. Will continue giving away bags of things to friends -- books, cassette tapes, like that. And so on.
[continued in following entry]
España, te echo de menos
rws 9:05 PM [+]
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