Saturday, April 3, 2010
Over the next 2 weeks I started going through some of the four hundred and eleven boxes of stuff in the basement. In case you are keeping score about seven of the boxes are mine and that is including all of the holiday decorations, and my wedding dress. I also went picking through my house. I was targeting knick knacks, and decorations that I was tired of looking at. No I didn’t remove any of the kids, or Dave’s stuff, just mine. I am one of those people who love eclectic unusual objects, or as my friends at times call it strange crap. In my defense some times an object, like my beloved bright blue cat that my aunt brought back from Italy, is so bright and bizarre that I love it! You know? Like ugly babies. They are so wrong that they are right? Right?
Anyway so after shopping in my house I ended up with three big plastic bins of crap for the auction. I called the lady got my number and happily tagged all everything. I went to the auction place in the afternoon to set up. I was giddy with anticipation. Maybe there would be a bidding war on my set of 1970’s mustard colored Tupperware. They are collectibles you know.
I set up my table hand painted wine glasses that I never ended up using, next to the fake mosaic clock. The cute heart shaped nesting bowls and heart beaded serving spoons looks so cute together. This auction was going to be great. I came back at 6:00pm and took my seat…
Then the world titled on its axis. No one was bidding and people were getting insane deals! My friend bought an antique sterling hair clip for $15.00. Someone bought a brand new picture from Target with a $75.00 price tag still on the back. The winning bid? One dollar. My first item on the auction block was a wedding present that sold for $2.00! Hardly any of my items were even brought up to the auction block before the audience started leaving. But those items that did were all bought for about one or two dollars. Yes! Seriously. A fifty dollar shelf unit that I bought at Target (marked down to 9.99) sold for 2 dollars! 95% off the retail price. This auction was crazy!
By 8:30pm the audience was most gone only the sellers remained. I guess being before a holiday weekend people weren’t in a buying mood. The auction lady was selling table lots for a dollar. Whole tables of stuff for a dollar! When she came to my table that in case you hadn’t guess was still covered with 80 percent of my stuff I rushed to the front and told her that I didn’t want to sell. I was going to bring the stuff to the thrift store where at least I could get a tax receipt.
I was so mad. I worked so hard finding this stuff, tagging it, packing it all up with bubble wrap lugging this stuff out of the house setting it up at the auction and now I had to pack it all up again? I was burning mad. My friend saw my distress and came over.
“Tough night.” She said with a smile. I was angrily stacking plates.
“This was so unfair! They didn’t even let people bid on my stuff!” I grumbled.
“They usually put the best items up first.” She said in a kind calm voice.
“So you are telling me that all of my stuff is crap? I sarcastically ask. She smiles and bravely says.
“Yes.” I almost drop my plate. She continued.
“Honey this auction is only for antiques. People don’t buy the new stuff. It has no resale value.”
This is the moment that I realized that buying retail is a huge scam! However I’ll save that for another blog. That night I was still too pissed to comprehend the reasons. All I knew was that I was embarrassed and mad that people thought that my crap was the crappiest of all the crap. I liked all of this stuff and had most of it displayed in my house at one time. I quickly packed up my crap, ducked out the back, went home, and quit the auction business.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Good moms know when to go with the flow. No better time to make the eggs. I hide the opened tablets on top of the fridge and boil the eggs. Thank goodness for our summer weather, nothing better than making messy crafts outside. After the eggs cool I take Dylan and my little squirrel outside to the table. Then I mix the tablets up into little rainbow pools. I carry out the eggs. I carry out the paper towels. I carry out the stickers that came with the set and three bottles of water. Then I carry out the pots of color. I put them down on the table slowly and carefully. The kids are about to combust with anticipation. I make shout out the rules while they do some sort of tribal dance around the table. They each get six eggs and they need to try and use the tongs.
About 30 seconds later I am seeing an exploded rainbow. The eggs are brightly colored. The table is brightly colored. The kids are brightly colored. The paper towels are soggy and brightly colored. And the mother is somehow brightly colored. If you are guessing that the bathtub was brightly colored that night? You are right!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Dave went to bed and as his pain grew so did his understanding that he not suffering from food poisoning but from kidney stones. He had passed kidney stones twice before and I guess the throbbing pain is unmistakable. The poor guy lay in bed and suffered. He refused to be taken to the emergency room. Luckily the pain passed quickly and we assumed that the stones had passed. That is until Friday night.
Friday night I came home late from my friend’s house, Alice was asleep, Dylan was spending the night at grandmas, and Dave was in bed acting like his body was possessed by evil spirits. He was clutching his stomach and groaning. He kept switching positions as if he was a puppet with a drunken puppet master. He moved like he was on fire and no position would give relief. I brought him ibuprofen and a heating pad. What? That’s what I use for cramps. I guess this pain is much much worse than cramps. I ran out to the 24hour drug store to buy their most powerful medicine. The pharmacist said that if he had kidney pain that nothing would touch it.
I went to plan B. I looked at my cell phone. The time read twelve thirty. I took a deep breath and called a friend. I of course woke her up. But she is the only person I know who has serious pain medication in her house. She is also the kind of person who you can call with a crisis in the middle of the night.
I drove to her house like a teenaged drag racer. I ran up to her door and she handed me a zip lock bag with a few pills. She told me to give him only one at a time. I ran back to the car and drove home minutes as fast as I could without being to conspicuous. I had nightmares of the police blog. Local mom get’s stopped trafficking prescription drugs speeding through town.
I got home, ran into the house and up the stairs. I gave Dave a pill and then went down stairs and burst into tears. I cried because I was so happy that his pain would be relived. I cried because I could now process how scared I actually was. But, I mostly cried because I realized how truly blessed I am to be cared about by such amazing friends.
Dave was fine until Monday night when I took him mostly by force to the Emergency room. He waited in horrific pain for hours only to have the doctor tell him that he did indeed have a kidney stone. My husband has a nice big 5 millimeter kidney stone that will keep his inside a flame for a few more days. That is of course if he can pass it. If he cannot deliver it the natural way he will have to have surgery, too bad that we don’t have any health insurance, but that is another
Sunday, March 28, 2010
I look out the window and there is my neighbor and his son unloading the mammoth beast out of the pickup. I run outside Dave runs over from where he is raking in the yard. By the time I get there the couch is half way off the truck bed. I look at the bulky overstuffed monstrosity and see white stuff. Is that cat hair? No one in the world is allergic to cats as much as yours truly. Cats are my kryptonite. I look at pictures of cats and I get hives. Now the couch is being carried down the hill towards my front door.
“Um did the owners have cats?” I ask almost whimpering.
“Yeah.” My neighbor says as he puts the huge fur ball by my front door. I sneeze and start to feel itchy.
My husband was so happy. He loved the couch. My sister loves the couch. The kid’s love the couch; even the dog loves the couch. They all ooh’ed and ah’ed as I itched my arms…I could feel the emerging hives.
My sister agreed to vacuum the couch as my husband and I ran inside to arrange the furniture. Which in man language means to move all our my current furniture into the middle of the room. Then we moved in the kitty couch making our living room look like a furniture store.
There is no room to walk in my living room and I have people coming over on Saturday for an Easter egg hunt/party. Achooo!