Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Pointless babbling.

Did you think I was dead? I'm not dead. Close, but not yet. I can still breathe, provided I don't roll over onto my back. I only cough hard enough to pass out when I'm going up the stairs. And despite the pounding, my head has not exploded.
Things in the Average household are going well. I have not started packing for the Big Move, but I still have 49 days to go. Plus, no sense packing until after the yard sale! Woo hoo, a sale! At my house!! Wonder what good stuff I'll find?! Hubby says I cannot sell any of his stuff. Not even the stuff he doesn't remember owning. Or the stuff still in boxes from our last move. That stuff is all very important. No idea what it is, but NO SELLING IT!!
This weekend is the big Tent Sale at a furniture store here in town. That would be the "May Tent Sale", not the "May Tenth Sale" which is what Hubby heard the salesman say. We know I'm right because first of all, I called the store to find out. And second of all, we got a flyer in the mail today. For the Tent Sale. On the twelfth. I love being right, even when it means making an ass of myself on the phone with a strange salesperson. Anyway, at the sale we are hoping to buy a wonderful, new, super-cool fridge and stove. For cheap. Because our new house does not come with these basic appliances. The current owners are willing to sell the walls, floors, ceilings, and living room furniture, but the fridge and stove (and washer and dryer) go with them. They don't want to pack the curtains, but the huge refridgerator, stove, washer and dryer can hop on the truck.
I have more pointless ramblings, but Lost is starting in 10 minutes, and I don't have my jammies on yet.

5 comments:

Azgreeneyes said...

Good luck with 1. the yard sale 2. the tent sale 3. your move!

MaryP said...

My first husband was a packrat. I once suggested we get rid of five years worth of a photography magazine to which we no longer subscribed. Because he was no longer taking pictures. Though we still had the camera and all associated gear. In a box.

NO, I could not throw them out! He NEEDED them. Not that he could remember the last time he'd needed them, nor what he might need them for. Not, for that matter, that he even knew where they were.

I moved them to a less-obvious spot. Six month later, I moved them to an even less obvious one. Six month after that, I gave them to the library.

He never noticed. But if he had, I had a strategy. I was going to wave my hand vaguely and say "they must be around somewhere". (Which, of course, they WERE.) And if he got persistent about it, I was going to get annoyed. "They're YOURS, not MINE, and" (I was very proud of this twist) "if it were up to me, I'd have thrown them out years ago. YOU find them."

Am I not brilliant?

Paul said...

Hope your feeling better soon. Don't leave the packing too long.. we were given three whole months to move and still ended up needing two more weeks to get it all done. the removal men were quite suprised when we were still packing the boxes they were moving on the day of the move.

sky said...

good luck with the yard sale - sneak out hubbies stuff when you can...lol

hope you're feeling better soon!

I'm planning a multi-family yard sale for later in May or early June. I don't know how it happens, I cull the crap every year and every move, but I still have a ton of stuff to unload...sigh...

Rootietoot said...

In 1987, I packed a box of Hubby's shi..um..stuff and taped the box shut. In 2005 we were moving (for a 4th time since '87)and he spied said box, unopened since it's first packing, and enquired as to its contents. "Your shit." I replied. "You can throw it away." he said. After I regained conciousness, I dug out the broken tennis trophy from 1980, and the dead HP scientific calculator from 1983. As bones to give him, I reckon.

My word verification sez 'ryduduhy' I suppose it's the name of a Welsh beer.