On a Sunny Porch



Spiders, webs, insects. YUK! I’ve been cleaning out a space on my front wrap-around porch, complete with chair and small round table. Moxie is not used to being out here, and is making faces and strange noises to all who pass on our busy street. I am in full sun and I know I will have to drag myself to the shade soon. But I am pretending I am on a deck on Daytona Beach and I expect a pelican to fly by any minute now. Not likely in this small town in Washington State, thirty miles north of Seattle. I know. So far, only pigeons.

Moxie and I went to a garage sale this morning. Why do other people’s stuff seem so captivating while I am trying to whittle down the tons of stuff I already own and seldom use? Just one more dish, just one more book. All stuffed into a home built in an era where collecting stuff wasn’t a priority. The old house simply doesn’t have storage space. Simplify.

I walked away from the garage sale with no purchases. The lady shouted out as I left, “We’re open for four days. New stuff everyday!” The sale, with all its tempting loaded tables is two blocks away. Maybe if I took a load of my stuff to the thrift store?