Granny panties and dentures

Maybe that should be the name of my blog since it's been ages since I last posted.  It's kind of catchy don't you think?  

But no, I'm not changing my name again.  

I decided to have a garage sale this past weekend.  I made signs and posted them throughout the surrounding neighborhoods along with some of the signs I had purchased at the store.  I placed an ad in the 'local' paper which ended up being the wrong paper.  I found out there are like 6 other local papers that the main garage sale people look at.  How was I supposed to know that when all we get is the Wall Street Journal?  Hey, I could have advertised globally!  

The night before the sale my oldest son Taylor and I decided to drive around and check out how the signs looked.  In the adjoining neighborhood, I noticed that two of my signs were missing.  My first thought was that maybe some punk kids took them as a prank, but I recalled that this was a retirement community so I decided to investigate further.  

I pulled up to a neighbor's house where a couple was out in their yard and asked them if they knew anything about garage sale signs being confiscated.  That's where I first learned of the sign Nazi.  Supposedly this guy goes around and is the neighborhood watch man who will take down any sign because he's crazy part of the home owners association and in that neighborhood it is written in the bi-laws that garage sales are not allowed.  

Whatever.  

I am thankful I don't live in that part of the neighborhood.  

After finding out about this old dude and where he lived I was hot and ready for a confrontation.  Yes, I went to his house (with my son) and knocked on his door at 8pm Thursday evening.

An older lady answers the door in a t-shirt and underwear!  Total granny panties.  As much as I tried not to look down I couldn't believe what I was seeing and not wanting to see.  You know what they say about a car wreck - you just can't believe what you're seeing and can't look away.  That is what I felt like.  

I asked if the man of the house was home, but she said he was asleep.  So I continued to ask if she knew of any reason someone would take down my garage sale signs.  She immediately got defensive saying she didn't know anything about the signs, but there are no garage sales allowed in the neighborhood.  I explained to her that I placed my sign on the outside of the subdivision not even in any one's yard.  Then she told me to go to her garage where she opened it and walked out (still in her underwear) holding my hand made sign.  (At this point Taylor decided to wait in the van - he'd seen enough.)

Sure - she didn't know anything about signs.  Puh-lease!  

At this same time another couple pulls up asking about their signs that they placed in the neighborhood.  The three of them start to argue and out comes the man I originally came to see.  He walks out of the garage in his robe and slippers and I notice he is placing his dentures in his mouth.  He begins to yell at these other people and obscenities are flying.  All I wanted to do at this point was crawl away with my sign.  

The other neighbors decide to drive away and the robe-wearing-denture man walks into his garage and comes back out holding my other store bought sign.  I was so excited to get both of my signs back that I almost forgot I saw a lady in her undies and a man insert his teeth.  

The lady instantly changes her demeanor and starts apologizing profusely.  She grabs my hand and starts acting like my best friend, asking about my garage sale and if I am selling any books.  

What. just. happened?  

I thank her for my signs and start backing away making some excuse that I need to get home.  

I had to apologize to my son for having to see what he saw.  He might be scarred for life.  But I was glad I decided to follow through, even if it meant meeting some crazy, rule-abiding, half-naked, toothless neighbors.     

    

I should have read the sign

I went to the gym the other night and decided since hubby was out of town I would spend some extra time there and get in some upper body strength training and run on the indoor track before my step class.  

The boys (actually Taylor in particular) wasn't thrilled about the extra 45 minutes we'd be there, but he would have to survive and deal with it.  

I am your typical group exercise addict and don't usually venture out to the machines unless I have some extra time on my hands.  The gym I go to has a huge assortment of machines and equipment.  Some of which I was familiar with and others not so much.  But really how hard could it be?  There were signs posted on each piece of equipment with a picture of what you should be doing.  And I've got some experience, so I thought.   

I sat down at this one machine that works your back and abs.  It resembled the one in this picture.  At my old gym we had a similar one where you sat with the bar across your chest and crunched down.  Apparently, this was not the same machine.  How do I know that?  Because when I sat down and tried to push the bar down it wasn't moving.  I adjusted the weight stack and tried again.  Nothing.  So, I decided to look at the picture and wouldn't you know, I was sitting the wrong way.  The bar was supposed to be behind my back (not chest) and I was supposed to be pushing back against it not forward.  No wonder it felt strange.  I was embarrassed because this particular machine sits about 10 feet away from the personal training desk where 6 trainers were standing around.  I am sure they noticed my lack of equipment knowledge not to mention my unique way to use the workout machines.  

I think I'll retreat back to what I know.  There aren't many ways to mishandle a step.