A yard sale in the future, but my mind can't get into it.

We have a yard sale upcoming and frankly, I cannot get into it.

For some reason, instead of a reasonable May date, the neighborhood chooses what is historically the most miserable day of the year to deal with the most miserable people - yard sale shoppers.

Last year the heat was brutal.  Not even my biggest Big Edie hat with the floppy brim helped.  The sun refused to yield, turning plastic to jelly.

I am good for about two hours, then it falls to the husband to carry on.

Still, we have these tubs of stuff unsold from last years yard sale and some other stuff that needs to go.

There are some items that frankly, we no longer need. Wide screen LCD monitors, computers without the drives, towels for bathrooms in colors that don't work in this house, and won't work in the house once we redo the bathrooms.

I have been buying up good quality pots and pans at resale stores for pennies on the dollar, restoring them and selling them to people at a considerable markup.

Books are increasingly a problem because 1) People want you to give them to you for free, or 2) They look at the bins and say "I read everything on my iPhone."  My standard response to that last one is "But you can read books without worrying about running your phone battery down after the hurricanes knock the power out for days on end."

We have no Lego to sell, so right off the bat the "Do you have any Lego to sell" guy will be disappointed.  As will the Mid-Century modern guy, because we have none that we want to get rid of.

Last year we had a woman who tried to slip a couple trinkets into her purse and try and walk off with them.  We're all on the look out for her as well.

Part of our problem is that now that all of parents are deceased, no one is reading the Harriet Carter catalog and ordering stuff for us like pencils trimmed in maribou, phone address books, cord hiders, or book lights.

Last year we sold the plastic flower pot lamps that an uncle sent to us as a house warming gift.  Essentially, they were giant white plastic flower pots that he drill holes into in a design, then glued these colored clear plastic light bright pegs into the holes.  He would drill a hole in the top and attach a chain and socket.

"It'll look great on your mobile home patio."

When we move to a "mobile home" in twenty years, well then, maybe.  But right now we live in the heart of Mercedes Benz country and have no need for them.  We made twenty a piece off of them.

The husband and I are going to have to sort this out or sit it.  I am for the later, not the former.