yard sale days

V called me both Anne of Green Gables and Pollyana yesterday, the former when I was rhapsodizing over the moon, hanging full and white in a pinkishly blue twilight, swooped across by bats. The latter when I was opining over the unexpected merit of yesterday's yard sale: seeing stuff I've toted around idly for years walk off with people who loved it more than I ever could. A few of these:

• The hot vintage dress with the beautiful floral print that doesn't fit right went with a sweet hipster girl.
• The cheerleader doll altered so that her uniform reads "punk" goes away with a polite little girl who helped her young friends find their own spoils.
• The futon -- my first long-term post-college bed -- to an English PhD student.
• The green velvet throne chair to another English PhD student I randomly see around all the time but haven't ever officially met.
• The hot shoes and yellow shirt I never wear to my friend Sherri.
• The little red wok and pretty bowls I bought in Providence right after college to my mentee in the CW program - a young Mainer just post-college herself.
  
• The necklace from the Silver Dragon to the beautiful woman with the facial tattoo who has waited on me often at a local cafe. Her stunning child with a chest of pirate booty slung round his neck and cascading curls wandered around wielding Chris's curtain rod like a sword.

All in all, it was a pretty good day. Not as bustling as we'd hoped, but satisfying.