Even a broken clock is right twice a day.
Such is the measure of accuracy of our weathermen. Example: Their prediction over Memorial Day weekend: Sunday, bright, warm and sunny, the best of the three-day weekend. In reality: cold, gray, drizzly, the worst of the three-day weekend.
But, as I said, statistical odds favor our hapless weathermen eventually so their prediction for this weekend just might come to pass: Warm, sunny and temps in the mid-70’s — for the first time since November 2010!
What does that bring to mind?
Yup, the whittling-down of stuff in preparation for my exit is both intense, as I’m leaving with only what fits in the car, and nearing maximum volume, with only weeks until departure. With the bulk already long gone, it’s now gettin’ down to the basics, the nitty gritty, the things like furniture and other small luxuries. Lamps for instance
So if today’s splendid weather carries into the weekend as predicted, it’s a yard sale tomorrow and/or Sunday.
The goodies up for grab are nuthin’ fancy. Boy is that an understatement! Indeed, there’s nothing quite like a major move to shine the spotlight and magnifying glass on the cheap and the crap!
I look around the apartment and both celebrate evidence of my gifts in resourcefulness and inventiveness and cringe at the poverty and statements beneath woeful wares. The furnishings are minimal – I’m OK with that – and with the exception of a couple pieces, most of what I’ve got was either uber-cheap (craigslist or Goodwill) or free (discards or giveaways).
Collectively, they ain’t cash cows. If I didn’t need the money so badly, I’d likely beckon the thrift store’s truck to come get the stuff and be done with it. I’d thank the things for serving a utilitarian purpose and send ’em off with a bye-bye kiss and prayers for positive futures.
However, given the chance to help others, I take it. And if I can help others by passing on my stuff for little to nothing, especially with soooo many poor, struggling, unemployed and hurting, then I’m your man! Err, gal.
And I’m cheap too! Or my things are anyhow.
So we’ll know soon enough whether (a) statistical odds bear out the weathermen’s forecast of fine weekend weather and (b) I get rich via the yard sale.
Hey, a tank of gas is a tank of gas!