In which some was gotten

As I have become sadly accustomed to when attempting to sell things, we did not make a ton of money at our garage sale. We made enough to cover the tables we had to rent and probably the gas to get to and from the place we had to rent them from, and the rest will maybe get a delicious McDonald’s meal for two of the three of us. During the last hour, we switched to “get this stuff the fuck off my driveway” mode, however, and my wife posted on a couple of come-get-free-shit groups on Facebook, and indeed, people came and got free shit, to the point where there was very little left by the time we closed up shop, and nothing that we’d have to make any phone calls to get hauled away. Which is good! We did this to clear space, not to make a ton of money, and the space is cleared, and some folks got some stuff they need. I’m good with it.

Tomorrow is Father’s Day. My wife and I just had a brief conversations about my expectations re: said holiday, and really, all I need/want/care about is to be acknowledged. And, like, even that doesn’t require much, but I’ll admit that last year I was a little upset, as my father, my brother, and three former students all said “Happy Father’s Day!” to me before my son or my wife did. I don’t need presents or a special meal or anything like that; we’re going to a local art fair for an hour and a half or so in the afternoon, assuming either of us can make our legs work, but that’s something we both want to do. I’d just like it if my ten-year-old manages to remember.

(“But what about Mother’s Day?” I can hear you asking. And the answer is: for reasons that are hers and therefore I’m not going to get into here, my wife loathes Mother’s Day, so beyond the perfunctory Acknowledgment of Holiday Status it is generally best ignored. And she’d probably be just fine without even the acknowledgment. I want that much, but not more.)

Let’s see, what else? I’ve now seen two episodes of Ms. Marvel and it continues to be the best thing Marvel has ever done. Yeah, I said it. It’s maybe not up to the emotional level that the first Iron Man and the first Avengers got me to, but it’s coming close. I fucking love this show.

Okay. I’m tired. Books and chairs for the rest of the night.

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Luther M. Siler

Teacher, writer of words, and local curmudgeon. Enthusiastically profane. Occasionally hostile.

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