I must say, this past weekend really put me in a summery mood.
First of all, my mom (and several of her Stanton Road neighbours) held a yard sale, which started on Friday and ran right through to late Saturday afternoon. It brought me back to summer days as a kid, when Mom would make us root through our closets and toy shelves, to collect enough stuff to have a yard sale.
Looking back, it was probably just a way to keep us busy for a few days while off school for the summer. But I was never big on yard sales. "Look! Isn't this fun?! We're going to give away all your stuff, for next-to-nothing, and then you won't have any toys or games or clothes left! Wheeeee!!"
That's right. I did not enjoy giving away my stuff.
And still don't. Several times over the past couple of weeks, Mom has asked me, "Do you have anything you want to sell at my yard sale? Maybe some of your CDs or DVDs or books?"
NO NO NO. I am NOT giving away my STUFF!!!
And apparently, the same applies to my grandma's stuff.
As you may have read about here, I already received quite a few treasures from my grandma's house. We were all given first choice at Grandma's belongings after she passed away, and the stuff leftover was going to the yard sale. And yet, still I found myself perusing the tables, picking things up, and saying, "Well, you can't sell this. I'll take it." So I ended up with more Tupperware containers that I don't have room for, a few more Christmas decorations that I don't have room for, and a 1000-piece puzzle that I somehow missed the first time around, because I need it to complete a task for my 101 List. (...which I don't have room for.)
I had to keep biting my tongue when a man tried to swing a deal for the few teacups that were left. I felt a little sad when another gentleman came and bought her church anniversary plates. And I shuddered to think of anyone walking away with some of her nice blouses that she always wore. (Thankfully, no one did - at least not when I was there.)
So no. I don't like selling my stuff. OR Grandma's.
But the yard sale in general? Mom called it a success, and it was a fun way to kick off the summer.
Another awesome way to welcome the warm summer sun? My friend Lindsay's annual pool party! The weather was perfect on Saturday for floating in the pool, or relaxing in a lawn chair with a caesar in hand.
I had one of the scariest moments of my life that afternoon, though. You know how I've been whining and complaining about my allergies for weeks on end?
(Yes. I know. You're sick of hearing about it. So am I.)
Well, anyways, Lindsay puts on a pretty good spread at this party. A big long table of fruits and veggies and chips and breads and dips, pinwheels and salsa, bacon cheeseburgers, hot dogs, cookies and cupcakes. Basically, a fat girl's paradise.
And just after Ryan announced that the food was out, and a few of us went swarming in to feast, MY STUPID ALLERGIC HEAD GOT ALL CLOGGED UP AND I COULDN'T TASTE ANYTHING.
Do you realize the severity of this statement? Pretty much worst-case scenario. I thought I was going to cry.
I kept jamming chips and chunks of pumpernickel loaded with spinach dip in my mouth, declaring, wild-eyed and panicky, to all around me, "Nope. I can't taste it. I can't taste anything. Not even the SALSA! Nothing!!"
So, instead of retreating back to my lawn chair in utter defeat, I remained behind the food table, going back and forth, shoving food in my mouth while snuffling back the allergies, hoping to clear my head and get my taste buds back. Doesn't that paint a delicious picture? Wouldn't you have wanted to be heading down that food line, filling your plate, while this big, panicking girl is going back and forth, ramming food in her face, snuffling and snorting, mumbling, "Nope, I still can't taste it. Maybe I'll try the honey dew again..."
YUM. or not.
It was a glorious moment when it finally worked and I could taste again.
But by then, I was too full to even enjoy my burger or continue snacking. *sigh*
Still...it was a wonderful day spent with great friends and some of the cutest kids in the world.
And then Father's Day, of course, which brought more of the same - lounging on my parents' patio, soaking up the sun, and then enjoying shish-kebabs off the BBQ, baked potatoes, caesar salad, garlic bread, and strawberry shortcake. All to celebrate my dad, who hates celebrating anything, and even got a nasty twist on his face when we gave him our cards.
Some things will never change.
But at least that day, I could taste.