It felt like an impossible situation.
- Winnipeg free cycle? Just imagine driving around in dad's old truck, up and down streets for hours, laughing hysterically and picking up any manner of free junk. Why? Because, I just have spent hours cleaning up the garage and making millions of trips to the thrift shop and dumpster to ditch stuff- leaving the poor garage looking lonely. And in need of Stuff.
- Manitoba's longest/ townwide yard sales? Hey- I believe in the one hundred mile diet when it comes to accumulating cool stuff. And town wide is pretty much in my back yard. Very ethical. Sort of righteous, really.
- Or. Go with the Mennonites. To Morris. Yep, that eagerly anticipated annual auction sale fundraiser. Tables upon tables of weird stuff. Machine shops floating in borscht. Lardy farmer sausage floating in schmont fat with perogies three ways-- yum, yummy, and yummier.
Slow down. Breeeeeeeeeeeeeathe. Think of the needs of others.
Like-- your parents for example!
Friends will wait, and yard sales abound. But a ma and a pa in their eighties is hardly something to be trifled with. Besides, it might be just the place to browse for spare body parts that might tip the scales in "favoured daughter point" status. Nothing says "hero" like an impromptu organ transplant in a quanset, surrounded by long skirted silent types.
Dad has been hinting for some time now that he'd like a new pair of legs- ones that would work like his younger ones once did.
Too bad it wasn't a problem with the plumbing. Could have done a bowel transplant right then and there, what with the antique tools and organs sitting around on silent auction tables. Man, I wish I could get me one of them pretty bowels. Wouldn't have to worry about being vain, with all that gorgeous bowel buried deep in my insides.
And for just a dollar.
Might have even found a little something to take the edge off the pain of major surgery without anesthetic.