Snakes on a Drain
It’s over!
Well, not really, we still have a lot of unsold goods and not-so-goods to pack up, but the doors to sell hell are closed.
It was hot. If you ever wanted to r-e-a-l-l-y get to know your family, (and I can’t imagine why you would want to - trust me) spend several days in a double-car oven, working at a garage sale with them, while all manner of humanity wanders by, pawing through tools and treasures.
The tools sold well. The treasures...not so much. There isn’t a lot of demand for fur coats in June. And everyone seemed to be able to live without a Rockwell collector plate.
The massive depression glass collection displayed in my previous post has been trimmed a bit, but as groovy so succinctly noted, few people are interested in one more thing to have to dust. I see an eBay store in grandma’s future.
The Campbell’s Soup cups and glassware that Peter noticed didn’t draw any takers. Perhaps we should have included actual soup.
On the last day of the sale, I dragged myself out of bed at 4 AM and sat on the toilet, rubbing my eyes and face. I felt severe stubble around my eyebrows, and realized I hadn’t plucked in days. I pulled open the makeup drawer and got out my trusty tweezers and magnifying mirror. Raising the mirror to eye level, I attempted to focus my bleary vision. In the mirrored reflection I saw not only my eyebrow stubble, but something slithering.
I spun around (not easy to do when you’re sitting on a toilet) and saw a small snake retreating behind the faucet. Apparently the lack of human activity in the house and the excessive outdoor temperature had driven the little bugger indoors. I can speak rationally about this now, but when I first spotted it, all I did was scream.
A screaming woman trying to exit the bathroom with her panties around her ankles, after flinging tweezers at a snake at four o’clock in the morning is a sight to behold, I was later told by my amused husband.
The snake was equally terrified.
Husband (my hero!) threw a towel over the terrified snake, carried it outside and released it. Since we live out in the country, this has happened a couple of other times in the 20-odd years we’ve lived here, but I will never get used to it.
But it made leaving to go haul two tons of stuff out onto a driveway, a whole lot easier.
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Well, not really, we still have a lot of unsold goods and not-so-goods to pack up, but the doors to sell hell are closed.
It was hot. If you ever wanted to r-e-a-l-l-y get to know your family, (and I can’t imagine why you would want to - trust me) spend several days in a double-car oven, working at a garage sale with them, while all manner of humanity wanders by, pawing through tools and treasures.
The tools sold well. The treasures...not so much. There isn’t a lot of demand for fur coats in June. And everyone seemed to be able to live without a Rockwell collector plate.
The massive depression glass collection displayed in my previous post has been trimmed a bit, but as groovy so succinctly noted, few people are interested in one more thing to have to dust. I see an eBay store in grandma’s future.
The Campbell’s Soup cups and glassware that Peter noticed didn’t draw any takers. Perhaps we should have included actual soup.
On the last day of the sale, I dragged myself out of bed at 4 AM and sat on the toilet, rubbing my eyes and face. I felt severe stubble around my eyebrows, and realized I hadn’t plucked in days. I pulled open the makeup drawer and got out my trusty tweezers and magnifying mirror. Raising the mirror to eye level, I attempted to focus my bleary vision. In the mirrored reflection I saw not only my eyebrow stubble, but something slithering.
I spun around (not easy to do when you’re sitting on a toilet) and saw a small snake retreating behind the faucet. Apparently the lack of human activity in the house and the excessive outdoor temperature had driven the little bugger indoors. I can speak rationally about this now, but when I first spotted it, all I did was scream.
A screaming woman trying to exit the bathroom with her panties around her ankles, after flinging tweezers at a snake at four o’clock in the morning is a sight to behold, I was later told by my amused husband.
The snake was equally terrified.
Husband (my hero!) threw a towel over the terrified snake, carried it outside and released it. Since we live out in the country, this has happened a couple of other times in the 20-odd years we’ve lived here, but I will never get used to it.
But it made leaving to go haul two tons of stuff out onto a driveway, a whole lot easier.
To leave a comment, please go here
Thanks!
