Make Me an Offer

A new project has me in its grip and I can’t seem to make much progress. In fact, it seems to have disrupted my life. We can’t park our car in the garage any more, and I can’t seem to finish one step without creating two more steps that must be accomplished before completing the first step. It seems to be a real catch-22.


I decided that I can no longer live with the state of our house; the answer seemed to be a yard sale. So far I have cleaned the storage room downstairs and the bathroom next to it that has become the storage room annex. I piled the junk the treasures in the garage to await cleaning, sorting, and pricing.

My next sacrifice is my paperback books. I want to get rid of the ones of a certain genre that I’m embarrassed to admit that I ever read. If I get rid of the hundreds of those, I will be able to shelve or box the ones I want to save. That’s easier said than done. I can’t start shelving until I remove the unmentionable ones off the shelves. I can’t finish that chore until I round up about a dozen more boxes. I have learned a lesson--paperbacks are extremely heavy. Mr. Fixit had to use his hand-truck to move one large box to the garage. Now I am taking the empty boxes downstairs and filling it a few books at a time. I must have gone up and down those steps a hundred times yesterday. The bad new is, I’m only in the middle of the “D” shelves.

I should have everything ready for the sale around Thanksgiving.

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Saturday evening when we were returning from our Mother’s Day dinner with the family, the traffic on the highway suddenly slowed to about 35 mph (a 65 mph zone). After a mile or so, we saw the reason. There was a pick-up slowing both lanes of traffic because everyone was afraid to pass him. He was weaving from side to side running into the median and then veering back across to scrape the guard rails. It was horrible to watch. I was afraid that the people coming up behind us would hit the slowly moving cars, but that didn’t happen, thank heaven.

The older man finally ran off the right side of the road where there was no guard rail and ran up an embankment. Several cars ahead of us stopped to help him. He was lying beside the truck. He didn’t appeared to be injured, but he did have some sort of big bandage on one of his knees. Maybe he wasn’t drunk as we suspected, but perhaps he was under the influence of medication. Either way, it was a scary situation, and he could have killed someone.