Rummage Roundup

Day Nine. Intermittent rain, moderately cool. I am down early, before the wedding. K and I have both been researching the guitar. I lend her a catalog. The rain slows donations some, but it is harder to sort and deliver. I am mocked by J: "It's all David's fault!" W will pick through her jewelry at a table in the men's department. K polished the silver while watching bios of Johnny Cash and John Ritter. By the end I am sitting there blankly staring into space as K and J sift through pair after pair of shoes.

Day Eight. Suuny, warm, then clouding over with a portentous breeze. Donations pick up at the end of the week. I arrive a little too late to get much work done before the donation time stops. I get the camera out to finish off the roll. A carpet goes down in notions. The bees are less annoying. W takes a bunch of jewelry to be appraised. The mystery of the shelving and the big red panels is solved; they weren't donations but now they are gone. Rain expected tomorrow.

Day Seven. As above. Donations seem to have been light for the third day in a row. S needs black pant and seems to have complicated requirements. P and R are taking the chrome shelving units off the truck. J in the truck bed in her cute office garb, pushing the boxes to me. I tell her it was a cicada. A sign for sorting? Not too soon. Going through the discarded shoes in dismay.

Day Six. Sunny, seasonable. It does not seem to have been a memorable day. J and S approved of the coffee cups. K went to a meeting but most everyone else didn't show up. The sorters are starting to catch up with the donations, and some of the departments are keeping up pretty well with the deliveries. The rest of the signs went up without my help.

Day Five. Sunny. It felt hotter than the temperature. K says the donated material is "crappy s**t" which is true, and the intensifier is poetic. P is beestung but perseveres like a brave little man. I put up some more signs. The tent guys put up the flaps, incompetently, and put up more to make up for their mistakes. The fencing goes up, so my closing activities are long. A and A of HH are there late. There is starting to be enough stock for us to hold a sale.

Saturday's mystery bug was probably a Cicada.

Day Four. Sunny, warm, humid. The flood of donations continues. By now the storage area is two-thirds full; one fence gave way under the weight of the clothing. K and K have a lot of fun playing with the toys. They send an accordion (actually a concertina) over to records. The brunch brings out a crowd, and the yellowjackets drop in. The green van is still sick; the red jeep is now the first car of rummage. Fence posts are driven but the tents have no sides. R has car trouble and is the last one left.

Sunday. No rummage.