Yard sale tomorrow. I mined the attic and came out with a folding carpet rocker (needs carpet), wicker rocker, box of tuned metal bars that would be a xylophone if put together right, and a school chair (the kind that bolts to the floor). That should pull in the antiquers. While I was there, I found my grandmother's trunk. Notebook from her (high school, about 1898) physics class, a certificate from WW1 about her brother(?) signing up for National Guard, a photo of unknown men in front of a Civil War-looking tent, some clothes, 2 albums of postcards, all on the first layer. It'll take weeks of sorting, looking, thinking about, and deciding what to do with all that stuff. There are more very old books and magazines up there, too.

I hope to sell off 2 partial sets of china (1950-60s), the bowling ball that was in my son's closet when he moved into his apartment, a pile of assorted tupperware and kitchen gizmos (NO ONE needs more than one potato masher) and several boxes of little stuff for the quarter table.

I'm trying something new with all my sci-fi books. Packed them in plastic supermarket bags, 15 to a bag, and selling for $1.50 a bag. I've decided a Kindle is in my future. Hopefully someone who likes sci-fi will need a winters' reading.

The big problem this week is the old books, though. I can't bring myself to sell them for a dime apiece, and, really, I don't want to burden someone else with interesting boat anchors. They're heavy, and that's the worst problem. I doubt I can convince my son to bring them back in if they don't sell. I did list a few separately in my craigslisting, so there may be hope.

I'll load the front porch and back of the truck with stuff for the sale, so I can start setting up (in the driveway) before my son gets here at 7:30 to drag boxes out of the front door and set out signs. He gets upset when folks arrive early looking for a deal, but they can carry boxes, too. They have to pay whatever price I set, though. My rule is NO bargaining before the signs go out. I'm not a morning person.

Meanwhile, empty boxes, wrapping papers, and boxes of things I actually decided to keep are sitting in the middle of the kitchen.