Sunday, November 13, 2005
During my father's work as an electrical contractor, he accumulated a substantial number of hand and power tools - some of them quite expensive. As his workload grew, he had little time to search through the growing pile of equipment in his garage and whenever he needed a hand tool that he didn't have ready access to, he would just buy another one...adding to the collection. When a tool became damaged, he would...add it to the collection. After eight years of doing this, by the time of his stroke, the garage was a thing of beauty. In the aftermath of his stroke, I cleaned out the garage and made an effort to pack everything, deferring the inevitable and hoping that at some point the tools could be liquidated in some way.
Ten years later we attempted to contact a broker in Moss Bluff, but to no avail. I discarded a number of items in the shed cleanout, but laid out the apparently good and expensive tools in the newly emptied shed. I asked our contractor if he could use them and/or help us liquidate them, to which he responded affirmatively. Shortly thereafter we heard from the guy in Moss Bluff.
Packing efforts for the day focused on finishing up the Master Bedroom and starting on the Living Room, which contained a number of extremely heavy items and a shag throw rug that the folks refused to throw away but was completely out of place on top of old wall-to-wall carpet.
The folks retired to the reservation...I to my bedroom.
Next: Monday, November 14, 2005
My great grandfather didn't travel 4,000 miles across the ocean to see this country overrun by immigrants. He did it because he killed a man back in Ireland. (Stephen Colbert on Arizona's 2010 immigration law)