Spent the morning gathering things up for the garage sale. Packed the car, talked to Ellen, and stopped at the bank to get ones and bills. Got to El's about 2:00 and we prepared her garage. Well, she prepared, doing most of the work, and I kept her company; I did set up my own things, of course. Aside from a few clothes, I had artwork--prints and originals--a handful of kitchen items (I should have brought more), and various bric-a-brac (I just wanted to get that word* in). I no sooner got there than I saw an attractive, wrought iron plant stand that's perfect for my patio. Of course, El gave it to me, along with several pots. Later, when I unloaded my stuff, I gave her a nice set of towels, barely used.
I still have plenty I could get rid of--and I will get rid of--but I'll have to continue culling. Considering what I've already banished, it's mind-boggling what's left. It's amazing how much a good-sized house absorbs without seeming overly done--and how little it takes for a small apartment to look cramped and crappy with a tenth of the stuff. Anyway, I'm hopeful we'll get a good turn out and sell it all.
It took about five hours to complete the job, but it got set up and we rewarded ourselves by going out to dinner. Went to the Spaghetti Factory in town and got--spaghetti, mine with garlic and oil, El's tomato sauce and meatballs. Went back to her place and El gave me quite a lot of food from her freezer and pantry. as she's starting a certain diet shortly and wanted it out of the house.
*I looked it up and "bric-a-brac" is derived from the French "bric," meaning "confusion"--apt enough! Wouldn't you know, those illiterate techies at SpellCheck don't recognize it.