The garage sale will begin at 8 am tomorrow (although we all know that people will be in the driveway well before that). Hopefully, I will be too busy to notice the cold seeping into my bones, or making so much money I don't care how cold it is.
The fat lady's concert will start at 1:00, and I for one will be very happy it is over. Whatever is left after 1 pm will be carted off to Goodwill or the dump (I promised myself!). My cats will be ecstatic; they will once again be able to lie on the tables in the garage and survey their domain, safe from the neighborhood dogs, and I will have 3 weeks to get the garage back to working order for the first flower job of the year. Hooray!
In honor of Valentine's Day and in spite of the sour poem I posted earlier, I am leaving you with a poem I always wished had been written about me:
My girl's tall with long, hard eyes
as she stands, with her long hard
silence on her dress, good for sleeping
is her long, hard body filled with
like a white shocking wire,
when she smiles
a long hard smile it sometimes
makes gaily go clean through me
and the weak noise of her eyes
my impatience to an edge - my
and taut, with thin legs just
like a vine
that's spent all of its life on a
and is going to die. When we
grimly go to bed
with these legs she begins to heave
and twine about me,
and to kiss my face and head.