Tonight my mom asked me if I was going to get straight into my jammies. I told her I might. After jury duty last Tuesday I spent all weekend at the Ancestral Manse, packing and sweating and eating at Mr. Pickles. I can't tell you how much pleasure Mr. Pickles gives me. The dewy-fresh youngsters who make my sandwich just right are adorable. Being there in their midst transports me to the restaurant where I worked during my senior year in high school. Life seems so simple when I'm there listening to heavy metal and waiting for my sammy. The last thing I will do when I leave my home town is to get a sandwich at Mr. Pickles, eat it, and walk over to the church across the street and ask about its architecture. More on that later. Over the weekend I clarified what was on offer to the auction house. My family had decided to keep the Asian art because it's not worth what we've been insuring it for all of these years. When I notified the auction house that we were keeping the Asian stuff, they politely gave us the finger, which caused certain persons to say that we should put the stuff in storage. Argh. I get that my house is the baleen of the family now, but I'm so pooped and have so little time left. Oh man. By this morning I was allowed to offer some Asian art to the auction house and we're now back in business. omg. This is my life now. And I really want to be working and playing with my mama. Anyhoo, back to my sweet mama's observation. My current relaxation is to sit in the chair of my father and grandfather and listen to records from our Tribunal list and reject, reject, reject terrible ones.
The good times continue. The phone rings. I pick up: "I need help," says a quavery voice. Is it my sister or my mom? It's my sister, who has been taking care of Mom. There is a litany of woe over there. Everything from: my mom discombobulated all of the televisions to my sister's car is parked up the street and she has a migraine and can't move it. It's kind-of a fuckfest. The bro and I try to figure out logistics of how we can continue the work we need to do at Mom's house and rescue our sister. It occurs to me that many of the tasks have the earmark of mrguy, including an ability to buy feminine hygiene products without embarrassment. So he was drafted and bro and I went back to work. mrguy fixed many things for the family and then came to the ancestral house. Then I had to call in about jury duty. Drew the short straw and had to appear in the afternoon. Turns out that if you drive 80mph you can get from Mom's to the courthouse in my county in time. I got called for the first group. I was juror 9. They asked if I'd ever had a bad experience with law enforcement. I was compelled to tell them about how the sheriff pulled me over for speeding and told me that if I stood on the corner in the rain he wouldn't cite me. The judge asked me if I reported him and I told her I was too afraid. So I got dismissed. I didn't mention the capper -- that he was missing one of his front teeth. I didn't think that they'd believe me. Mom's > Courthouse > Mom's > Big Brown Box = 140 miles. Plus it was 103 degrees at the courthouse.
I woke up to the sound of For The Love of Money in my head, again on the sofa at the mama's house. I came here yesterday to meet with some auctioneers, the Asian lady and the Decorative man. Decorative told me that the museum full of European antiques would probably only net $10k. The Asian would net slightly more, but we have an emotional attachment to them. I find it all fairly sad, since my mom as been trapped in her home after inheriting these things some 40 years ago.
Since we'd net so little, do we want to sell any of it? If we don't, I have to store or get rid of it in a week and a half, when we have to turn over an empty house to the realtor.
Yesterday we had the following people at the house:
9:00 -- the neighbor who is painting. A great guy, bit of a nut, loves to tell stories. 9:45 -- realtor and stager 11:00 -- Decorative Guy and Asian Lady from the auction house 2:00 -- Our Bro, eager to work 4:30 -- Bigsis and the mama, who have news from the doctor. Mom wants to paw through every drawer in the house (for the millionth time) and take more stuff to her apartment. She told middlesis that she really wants to move to a different apartment and that she's unhappy. She told bigsis that she likes her apartment. 4:30 -- middlesis' former best friend, who just happened to drive down our street for the first time in 25 years.
Week and a half to get out of the house. Bro is down to help. He's anxious about how to be helpful, and wants to get started. Mom and bigsis didn't leave for hours. Bro and I finished up three rooms. I have jury duty today. I will only live this week once.
In keeping with the piano theme... After Packin' Up came to mind the other day, I started thinking of the Stars of Faith. This song, in particular, is a favorite. It's now firmly stuck in my brain.
