Garage Sales

Yesterday we had a big garage sale but didn't have as many people as I would have liked, though we made about $200 for a morning's time invested. Not too bad. My nephews were here overnight and helped get everything out of the house for the early birds. As soon as you put up the signs people come, whether you have the stuff out or not. A bit of a pain to this organization freak actually.
The day was cold though sunny and we needed cups of apple cider and hot chocolate to keep warm. My friend, Donna, came and helped out a lot--I am sorry to leave her when we move. Two of my sisters came with family and that was fun. I kept giving things to their kids, happy to see their faces light up with their treasures. Another little girl came across the street with her Oma and Opa (Dutch for Grandma and Grandpa) and I gave her some little glass animals and a cute wee vase all of which had belonged to our daughter a long long time ago, and seeing her smiling eyes was rewarding. Reminded me of Glass Menagerie.
Our house is starting to look a little bare, an exciting thing to both of us as we have just too much stuff. We haven't moved in 31 years so there has been way too much hoarding and saving going on. Purging is good.
We have decided to have another sale next Saturday as we still have piles of stuff to get rid of, good stuff, too. I should be putting it on E-Bay or something but don't want to take the time. So. Next Saturday, October 20, we'll be carting goodies out bright and early for our eight to twelve sale. See you there?

Moving On--Finally!

We've done it! After two and a half years of on again, off again, we're selling, we're not selling, the house is finally sold. And we are jubilant. Smiling, singing, laughing--and planning a huge garage sale in a week. I am so ready to pare down and refocus. Maybe by decluttering (the new tv buzz word) our house, we can simplify our lives. Oh, we're not going to give up too much. I'll still have my beading, knitting, sewing and painting supplies, as well as a few of my favorite books, and hubby will still have a few tools and books, but a lot of our hoarded collections will go.
Below our realtor is as happy as I to finally be able to put up the Sold sign.


In the seventies--read MANY years ago--I had a wonderful subscription to the Canadian Author and Bookman magazine, and I still have all of the back issues, kept because I've always known I would write some day and would reread them. Imagine! Thirty years of saving them and Thursday I decided to put them in the pile of things to go.

Our many LP's will be in the garage sale, too, unless I can think of somewhere else to get a little more money for them. We have Sinatra and Louis, Coniff chorals and many other records that we used to love to listen to in the seventies. I remember when we were living up north in Schreiber and our son was a year old we would put on the records, pick him up and dance around the room, his little feet kicking for more whenever we would stop.

The basement is a treaure trove of memorabilia, Coke and old car stuff, sixties posters, funky art pieces--even a picture of old cars whose tail lights turn on when you plug in the cord. All of it has to go, I'm afraid. There is no more room in our lives for collecting--too many things to clean and dust.

Our garage sale is next Saturday and may even be worth a major trip from Vancouver, California, Scotland, Carolina--wherever you are! Well, maybe not Scotland!
Here are a few memories in picture format for me to sigh over:

Spring is Running Today

Today I give you my window view at a different angle because I liked the little stream shining in the sunlight on our flat roof. As the melting ice becomes a stream, water meanders over to the drain and I can smell spring in the wet air of my open window.

Another angle shot shows the icicles on the edge of the roof but what you can't really see is the stream of rushing drops as they melt. It's like a series of taps dripping off the roof. Very cool.

Finally I give you a straight-on view, half filtered by the screen but you can still see the icicles shining in the sun and the wonderful blue sky background. One of the best things about winter is the break it gives us from hot sun, so when the thaws come--and they will almost every day now--my heart leaps with excitement. I'm ready for spring, summer and fall!

Oh, I know today there is bad news of ice storms, trees down, electricity off and tornadoes dotting the south but here, just here in my own little space, heaven is in the glimmer of a shining dripping icicle. Glass half full!

A Blip of Snow Hits

After two days of above zero temperatures--Celsius--that is, last night was cold enough that we woke to a wonderful bit of snow today. Heading out to the gym at 7:45 I mentioned to hubby that I'd have to take pictures when I got back. Imagine my shock when 55 minutes later we returned and the snow was fast dripping off the trees! I ran for my camera. This first shot shows how lovely the trees look with their fresh white dresses. And you can see the fresh dusting on the walkway beside the old shovelled snow piled beside.

Here is the front view, yet again, and I love how my burnt orange door pops. You can see that the snow came from the south as it is only on that side of the trees. Lake effect, I guess, as we are nestled north of Lake Erie, with Lake Ontario and Lake Huron cuddling our sides.

The side door to our addition--orange, also--missed the snow under the overhang but notice the fence and the trees behind. I love trees, don't you? They soften every landscape and are a photographer's dream. Well, sometimes a nightmare if they fall on your house!


Finally, you can see the pile of old snow on the driveway in front of the door so you know we have had quite a bit this last 4-5 weeks. I must point out, however, that this is getting more and more rare, our own personal global warming measure. The blustery, dense whiteouts beside 10-foot banks of snow are mainly in my childhood, and I really don't miss them. The change of seasons is very welcome, however, and there is nothing, NOTHING like a snowy landscape bathed in sunshine against a backdrop of cerulean blue sky.

The Sign Goes Up!

We've made the decision, we're ready to go, our sign is posted and we're on the move. Yep, we've decided to sell our dream home. We've been here 30 years and have spent many hours and more dollars working on this pride of ours, but we're ready to put the 'ad' on to 'venture' and start the next chapter. Something smaller beckons.

Last night when we came home from a three-hour drive of searching out houses, talking of plans, dreaming up possibilities, the words "For Sale" jumped into our headlights as we made the turn into our drive. Guess it's for real now! There was a curious lump which niggled in my belly as we spent the hour with our agent filling out forms, signing away our lives, and deciding strategy. Yes, we want to go. Yes, we are ready. But, no, we don't want to go through the listing process, the sign-on-the-lawn scenario, or yet another "Open House." (Why is it up to us to provide weekend entertainment for the lookers?)

But we have to do it. We have to do all we can to sell this house so we can start our next chapter. Hopefully this interlude will be no more than a post-it! note--not a chapter--and the sign will say Sold! in no time. Meanwhile you need to know I'm working on the grass problem--a little seed will go a long way, I hope.

Our Little Nest

Here is the front entrance to our house. Looks lovely, doesn't it? The foreground shows our Pontiac Grand Prix and our red maple tree. The interlocking curved paving stone path leads you up the steps to the much lighter porch. The burnt orange door tells you we are bold yet warm-hearted, and not afraid to venture out into the wild and crazy. The door itself, with its wee window at the top says we are somewhat private and maybe even a little cautious. The solid brick represents our relationship and is softened ever so slightly by the weeping caragana and other greenery out front. So, really, our house is a reflection of us. Not surprising after thirty years of living in it.