I was out early this morning, mailing packages to folks I'd sold things to via eBay, plus sending off a package of three favorite mysteries (The Death of a Lake by Arthur Upfield, One for the Money by Janet Evanovich, and Pictures of Perfection by Reginald Hill) to Terri and Rob, friends I stayed with recently in Bellingham.
I came across an unusual estate sale on 24th Avenue NW. It was in an apartment in a commercial building. The items were quite contemporary — beautifully framed posters of Broadway shows, coffee table books, lots of first edition hardcover fiction, and some lovely kitchenware. I got two first edition mysteries (one signed) and a big Pyrex baking dish to replace the one that wandered off with a new owner after a recent potluck we attended. It was one of those estate sales at which you want to buy something just to connect to the good karma.
I swung by the bank to deposit a payment from the marketing firm I've been writing for, and then whipped through Bartell for packing tape and through QFC for fresh roasted turkey and some major bargains on detergent. I'm still marveling at the convenience of weekday shopping, though the parking situation in Ballard verges on the insane. Parking for the bank only. Parking for Bartell only. Parking for QFC only. Or you can pay for street parking and deal with those annoying little stickers.
The weather was windy, threatening rain and occasionally making good on the threat. Not sure that there was enough rain to keep the garden happy, though. It did keep the cats inside, napping, instead of going in and out every five minutes.
I did a lot of bookkeeping, and ended up with heaps of paper all over the dining room, being sorted for filing. Fortunately, Hutch called a little after four and swung by to take me out for a drink at the Lockspot. It's been years since I've gone out for a drink after work; it's easier to do if you haven't been working at all.
Kaylee the little cat is now licking my ear. That's her early warning system. I can get up and feed her now--or she can demolish my bulletin board. It's nice to have choices.
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