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Rummage Sale and Other Oddimenta
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Let me not to the usage of true minds admit oddimenta...

As I passed by the crows this morning, one on the high branches of the tree, one in the gutter investigating a squashed bug or bit of trash, they greeted me with conversational caws (nothing like yesterday's raucous screeches) and saw me on my way around the corner quite neighborly-like.

We're preparing for a rummage sale at my Unitarian Universalist church, so yesterday afternoon found me sorting and cataloging books donated by quite a few people. My experience with used book stores tells me that a person is a lot more likely to look at--and buy--books sorted by genre, so that's what I was doing.

Pawing through and trying to find an interesting book when they're all jumbled together is tiring and discouraging. Last year we hardly sold any books at all. This year I'm hoping that grouping by category will make it easier for people to find that intriguing book that they just have to read.

Which reminds me that I should go through my own bookcases and cull out some of the books that I'll never read again, and those books that I love but are printed in font sizes so small (usually mass market paperbacks) I'd have to read them on my Kindle.

There may be some clothes to donate also, though I sorted through and donated away a huge portion of my wardrobe when I retired. So what I might find now would be things I just don't wear, even though they seemed like a good idea at the time when I bought them. (You know what I mean.)

Some kitchenware--chafing dish comes to mind--and pet supplies. The more I think about it, the more things I'm remembering that need to be gone, given to someone who needs them more than I. I intend to divest myself of daily encumbrances, little by little, until all that remains is the heart of who I am and what I do in the world.

I buy very little these days; appreciating and loving what I have that gives me joy and comfort is sufficient.

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