April is a good part over, but this morning it is here – stepping out into the back vestibule, I was met with warm, gentle, moist air. Not one thing harsh about it. When I was 30 – and younger, and some older – I would have been aware of it in the back of my mind. But I would not have felt it like a warm bath. Not that I don’t have worries, but I noticed noticing it. I think it is an age thing.
Oh, yes, I forgot about the Trinity Methodist Rummage Sale yesterday until about four in the afternoon. Today is bag day, but judging from the slim pickings I found at four, I doubt that I will go. I did spend a dollar and donated another one, and came away with these four things:
A book I already have, but one I can stuff in the glove compartment for emergency reading; a mallet that screamed “I’ve been waiting here for you”; a flat thing with a handle and this muffin thing for Mother.
I am particularly pleased with the mallet. Can you see? The head is held on with a rusty nail bent to serve as a cotter pin. How did this treasure go unclaimed? Oh, yes, I guess it is because it is sooooo AmeliaJake. That might scare some people.