The first day of our garage sale went well. I was by myself, so I couldn’t be as social as last year. This also meant that when I needed to relieve myself, I simply ducked behind the garden shed to piss on the camellia.

I had fun chatting up the customers, though I still haven’t learned which people lack social graces and see friendliness as invitation to ramble on about their Aunt Margaret’s gall bladder surgery. It’s like a minefield: you gab with the buyers about the weather, about the neighborhood, about the garden, and then all of a sudden there’s somebody who lingers for twenty minutes to discuss how evil those fucking Democrats are, how they’re ruining the country.

Mostly though, it was a relaxing day, warm but overcast. I sat on the reclining love seat (only $60!) and read. I used an extension cord to plug in my Airport Express outside so that I could have internet access. (The Airport Express relayed my wireless signal from the house to the driveway. I didn’t get much time to use the access, but it was there.)

I worked on an article about garage sale tips for my personal finance weblog. Simon kept me company.

He hung around all day, lounging in the garage, in the driveway, in the garden. Early in the day he climbed onto the roof, where he entertained the customers. After a couple of hours, he decided that he didn’t know how to get down. He meowed piteously. I tried to help, but he was scared. Ultimately, his solution was to step down gingerly on to the newly-trimmed ewe hedge at the edge of the driveway. This did not make him happy: the hedge sagged and bowed beneath him. He whined some more. I managed to get him down, but not without a struggle.

To recover, he spent some time lounging in the midst of Kris’ purple irises. He had been there for some time when a hummingbird came chit chiting along. The hummingbird and I were both startled when Simon leapt from the irises and came within inches of nicking a tasty snack. I never thought a cat could catch a hummingbird, but I’ve changed my mind now. Given the correct circumstances, I believe it’s possible.

Simon came to sit on my lap, where he was once again a crowd favorite. When he was bored of dad, he began to do whatever he could to climb into the garage rafters. He tried to scale a support post. He tried to jump up from a high vantage. Eventually he found a slanted wooden brace that he was able to walk up and into the exciting unknown territories. For the next hour or so, he walked around on top of the garage doors, causing trouble.

Meanwhile, we had a lot of traffic. It seemed about twice as busy as last year, in fact, though sales weren’t double.

We sold $153.25 yesterday (up from $123.50 on the same day last year). Of that, $64.00 is mine, $46.50 belonds to Kris, and $42.75 is Tiffany’s. Last year we collected $206 on Friday and $222.50 on Saturday. I have high hopes for this year, too. Somebody buy our television! Buy our couch! Buy Joel and Aimee‘s old intermittently-operational DVD player!

Most of all, buy my comic books!