Sailing, sailing

Specifically, garage-sailing. Not sure why anyone would want to sail a garage, not very maneuverable (manoeverable?) I would expect. Tomorrow and Saturday, on our driveway, we're featuring some of the stuff we can live without in the hopes that someone else can't. Tricia's mom brought (rather, sent) a bunch of her teaching materials out in the hopes we'll attract a lot of teachers. Unfortunately, an unavoidable meeting at work called me away for Friday morning. Doesn't look like I'm going to be able to help the first day. It's unlikely I'll even be home in time for any part of the Friday sale. I guess the hardcore garage-salers show up Friday, but the mad rush is obviously Saturday. Hey, as long as we move some of this stuff, I'll be glad. No, I take that back. I'm actually somewhat nervous about what might get sold while I'm out of range. My comfy chair, any of the old computers in my basement, or who knows what clothes. I suggested that Ethan sell lemonade, tea, or maybe even some of my soda stockpile. (Currently five and a half 24-can flats of a really broad mix.) It might be just the ticket to keep him out of everyone's hair. Oh, and he's selling some of his toys. Trish has tagged them with a different color, and Ethan gets to decide how to spend the "take". Seems like a reasonable way to get him to part with stuff he may otherwise want to keep.