yard sale

I'm advertising right here in the hopes that my limited, local audience will show up and buy my shit. And shit it is. It's remarkable what I'm willing to hang onto, and, under the right circumstances, release to the next life. I hired a junk man to haul off whatever doesn't sell. I am not in a sentimental mood... I am setting aside things I don't love. But here's the thing... I'm getting rid of the red wine chair. It is named that because it has had more wine spilled on it than drunk in it. It's an old chair, overstuffed, maroon velvet where it isn't worn slick. Stuffed with horsehair, upholstery nailed with hundreds of brass tacks. There is a band of oak beneath the arms, and carved oak feet. Cooky and I were stopping by the goodwill box by my house in Central Point to steal a wheelchair for a needy friend. We were wearing nurse's uniforms, and thought it would be a perfect Farside cartoon: "When nurses go bad." I saw it first, yelled "Dibs" as is the custom in my family, and forever after there has been lingering discontent on Cooky's part that she deserved it. I don't think so. So, we loaded up the loot and hauled it home. That chair has been in my house ever since. That was at least 20 years ago, and it was old then. It's really fallen apart now. Thick string stitching the welt around the seat pillows is coming undone, my son Mark contributed some additional carving around the base. He's never respected that chair. He'll be delighted to see it go. The springs -- and these are some burly fucking springs -- are sprung. There is no hope. The chair represents many "one of these days" items. One of these days I'll: refinish, paint, upholster, mend.... It truly is the end of an era. I think my willingness to hang onto this crap is all about poverty. I've never been able to reconcile myself to success, to having enough. Enough just isn't a concept I understand. But I have more than enough. How many candleholders does one girl need, anyway? I have a box, probably three or four square feet in volume, full. When I was broke I used to take five dollars and fiind the best candleholder I could. It was a contest. My favorite is a hooded clay figure in prayer. Anyway, I'm releasing the chair.