Bay's Travel Blog

I don't travel much any more. Resist!

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Three o'clock in the mornin'

Wow. It's 3:00 and I'm awake. I have no idea why or how or anything like that, but considering my [apparent] decision that somnambulism (a.k.a., "sleepwalking") is cool, maybe I should be awake now. Just to forebear any ramblings around the house.

Amy held her big moving sale Saturday. OMG, y'all, what a madhouse! And I wasn't even there for the early hours, when the serious yard sale junkies were lined up at the door waiting to get their chance at my sister's old stuff. We had hidden everything she wanted to keep (well, *almost* everything) in her [former] bedroom, and she put a sign on the closed door that said, "Not for sale. Keep out."

Otherwise, the sign on her front door was the most applicable and clever: "Almost everything is for sale -- including the house -- ASK! You could get it!"

She sold antiques and modern entertainment centers and tons and tons of stuff. She sold a car. She sold Christmas novelties like a plastic Santa figurine that played electronic carols and blew bubbles -- from a *bathtub*. I mean -- this was one serious moving sale!

We collected a bunch of favorite stories of moving sale customers, like Stove Guy. Stove Guy was just determined to talk Amy down from the posted price on her stove. And of all the things in the house, that was the one thing she wasn't going to come down on, because that stove was so new and pretty that if it didn't sell for the posted price, it would just make the house *look* better by sitting there, being pretty and new. When Amy went to lunch and I was there by myself, I had to call her many, many times to ask her, "How much for the Victrola? How much for the martini glasses?" And other such things. She would answer the phone, "The stove is 200 dollars!" Which cracked both of us up totally -- many, many times.

Heck, the martini glasses were a good story. They are Waterford martini glasses in pastel colors with pretty little dots carved out on the side. Very mod. I love 'em. I have a set of knock-offs that Amy gave me because I liked her Waterford glasses so much. This young woman found the real ones and asked me how much. I called Amy, and after giggling about the price of the stove, she set a price with a caveat, "They're five bucks unless you want them. If you want them, you should keep them."

Trying to be fair (*I* didn't find the Waterford glasses before, after all), I told the potential buyer the price. And the silly girl decided not to buy them. She put the box down.

Not two minutes later, another woman came in and asked me, "How much for the Waterford martini glasses?"

I took a breath, choked a little, and then I said, "TEN bucks."

And I glowered at her. As soon as she put the box of martini glasses down, I snagged it and ran off to hide it away from the rabid moving sale buyers.

Amy gets a kick out of *that* story. I was greedy! I wanted those glasses for meeeeeeeeee!

See? I am not a good person, really.

But the thing is -- it's so good to have Amy home again, even briefly. I was worn out from the moving sale within two hours, and I wasn't good company, so I came home and took a three-hour nap before going back to Athens to hang out with Amy and her husband Paul for dinner. Then Amy and I went to Walmart to shop for stuff that I've been meaning to buy for two weeks. (And man, the cat was grumpy about the lack of totally fresh kitty litter, too, let me tell you!)

So I should be asleep now. I *should*. But Sunday is a day of rest, and I'm going to sleep late and hope that Amy comes to my house to wash some laundry and hang out with me here. I'll make red beans and rice if that's what she wants. I'll make black-eyed peas and cornbread, if that would keep her near. Heck, I would even make pineapple-upside-down-cake if that would do the trick! I just like having her around, and I know that our days are numbered.

If you have a sister -- a best friend or a sister -- who lives near you, be sure to take a few minutes to really appreciate her proximity. You never know when she's going to move across the country.


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