Nikolai saw signs for a garage sale on his way home from work, so we walked over once he’d had a chance to change and rub my shoulders and neck.  They hurt.  I chuckled to myself as we walked, because for about three blocks in a row he kept insisting that it wouldn’t be much further, it’s just up here, just around the corner.  He didn’t actually know where it was; he saw a sign on the nearest main road.  It turns out it was a little more than a garage sale, the man putting it on had recently helped his brother into a retirement home after the brother had lost his wife.  They were clearing out the house, selling it and the car.  Instead of having fun looking at all the stuff, I got caught up in nostalgia and melancholia of the two lives that were being wrapped up and sold off.  A lot of the little knickknacks reminded me of my grandmother, the drinking glass sets with the painted on flowers and patterns, the glass pie pans, copper molds, wooden-handled knives, glass canisters, cookie and candy tins.  I found myself tiptoeing through this house, touching things lightly with my first two fingers, and whispering my thoughts aloud to Nikolai.  We moved slowly and carefully.  We found a couple gag gifts, a lemon zester, a funnel, and a book.  We paid $2.25.  As we walked away, Nick noticed my somber mood and inquired/cuddled me about it.  I mentioned the triggered memories of my grandmother.  Then he kicked into soothing mode, “Yeah, we’ll have to go through all that.  Well, you will.  I don’t have too.  All my grandparents are dead.”

Isn’t he comforting?  I informed him that I actually liked my grandparents and would be sad if they were gone, thank you very much.  And then we came home.  Good story, no?  Happy weekend!

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