I've not worked at the store lately, so nothing to report there. Ricky has a long weekend next weekend and has done some swapping to get another day or two off and plans to put up shelving in the storage area of the store, finish putting in plugs, hang lights and whatever else we can work in during those few days. I really wish he'd just do the bare minimum and rest. Just lie on the sofa and watch TV and sleep. He's worked so much the past year, he's exhausted.
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Since nothing's going on, I thought I tell a story about an estate sale I attended a few years ago. I'd almost forgotten about it.
The sale was in a neighborhood that had been built in the late 1960s to early 1970s, but has now run down. The middle class people who built those houses have moved on or died out and a lower economic and social class has moved in.
As I was walking up to the house, quite some distance, I heard banging coming from a house across the street, a couple of houses down. It was constant. Bang! Bang! Bang! Then crash! Glass breaking. The sound was odd enough to make me look to see what was going on. There was a man on a ladder hammering away at the house, the windows. I wondered why he was doing that and decided they were renovating or something, but it was sure an odd way of doing that.
My mind turned to the sale ahead. The house was full of people and we all milled around looking and picking up things. After about 15 minutes I heard someone in the front room say the police were here and the man doing all the destruction ran - they thought toward this house - and he had a weapon!! I was kinda scared and really wanted to look, but took advantage of the commotion and kept shopping while everyone else had their interest diverted elsewhere. I quickly decided where I'd hide if he came in and held everyone hostage and continued to shop, peeping out of windows whenever I was near one.
Nothing ever happened, I didn't have to hide under that skirted table and the rest of the people began shopping again. The mumbling and rumors was that it had something to do with a divorce and the "weapon" was the crowbar he was using on the house. I don't remember a thing I bought there. It's been several years now. I do remember that the experience was the most exciting thing of the day.
That's probably the most intrigue associated with a yard sale I've ever had. That and when a yard sale friend was "murdered". (At her home, not at a yard sale.) Maybe someday I'll have a mystery like the Sharon Fiffer books about antique picker, Jane Wheel or Mary Kay Andrews', Weezie Foley, antique dealer in Savannah. Or even Lovejoy! I just love those books. Not Lovejoy as much. I prefer watching the TV show over reading the books. Ian McShane was so cute in a rougish way in that series.
