"I wish people who have trouble communicating would just shut up." - Tom Lehrer

It’s Sunday morning. Scott & I are at a Laughing Ladies Cafe for b’fast and internet before heading to church. I’ve been up since 2:30, and at 3:30 decided I may as well get some work done, so I went down to the basement to consolidate what little stuff didn’t sell into as small a space as possible. About 4:00 Scott came down because he awoke and realized I was up, so we both worked for the next three hours getting things straightened, floors vacuumed, Dad’s books packed and the dining set moved downstairs.

The estate sale (Fri. and Sat.) was an unbelievable success. I’m amazed at how little is left. All of the “big ticket” items sold except for a couple of things that can be sold on eBay. Despite the forecast, the weather was dry for the hours of the sale each day, with rain falling each evening. As Scott says, “Almost like Somebody planned it that way.”

I do NOT like the people who come the first hour of an estate sale. They run from room to room like beasts, competing with the others for whatever booty they might uncover. Their motive is greed. It’s not that they hope to find something useful; they hope to find something valuable.

Later on Friday and all day Saturday are shoppers looking for something that will fill a need, like a chair for their den, or a little treasure, almost like a souvenir. It’s fun to watch them get joy out of a “find.” One gal who looked to be in her mid-20’s bought a yellow two-shelf cart on wheels that has been in our kitchen since before I can remember. By the look of joy on her face you’d have thought it was Christmas. Another woman took home a picture of a lady playing a harp because it reminded her of UnaJean (my mom). Donna took piano lessons from mom 30 years ago, riding her bike over to this house once a week for years. Betty, from church, came as things were wrapping up yesterday because she couldn’t stand to see people rummaging through UnaJean’s things.

Some people asked, and the answer is no, it did not bother me to see people buying my folks’ things. They are just things. Only once did I feel a tug in my gut as I watched someone take something from a table over to the woman collecting the money - the black rotary phone that sat on the shelf in our house at 7333 Earl Ave. Odd, huh? But for some reason it seemed like it represented our family. We all talked on that phone. And for $3 it felt like she was taking part of us away. Oh well.

Before, during and after the sale we’ve spent time at the folks’ new place. Now that the sale is history that will be the focus of our efforts. Pictures need to be hung, his computer set up, the books he selected from his collection put into the bookshelf, and a few remaining things taken over and put in place. Here at the house we’ll load up the dumpster with trash and the things that even Salvation Army won’t want. The Sisters are coming in Wednesday to stage the house, so we need it clean and cleared of stuff. It will soon be someone else’s home.

I’m very tired. Getting up at 2:30 doesn’t help. But each day is filled with a list of tasks. We work at that list from rising in the morning to going to sleep each night. We all feel a certain amount of stress because of the size and significance of those tasks, so the physical and emotional fatigue combine. But that’s life. Sometimes circumstances place demands on body and spirit and the only option is to plow through. Deal with it.

But now, for the next couple of hours, comes a welcome respite - the fellowship of the saints and the worship of our great God. I shall do that wholly because I need what only being in his presence with his people can provide.

More anon.