Good-bye, Cranky Steve

Last Monday, Cranky Steve retired.  And then we saw him on Tuesday. And Wednesday. And Thursday.

I have my doubts that he really understands what "retirement" means.

We had the traditional retirement cake Friday afternoon (it was bright pink, blue and yellow, and since anything neon is a clue that I cannot eat that particular thing, I ended up cutting cake and serving everyone. I mean, why not? May as well be useful), in which we presented him with a photocopy of a pocket watch--his retirement gift "from all of us" even though I think the office picked it up--with reassurances it would be here in a couple of weeks. It was all rather touching. Everyone was in a good mood because, hello, cake, and Steve was in a good mood because his days were numbered.

So Monday rolls around, and we're all, it's kind of awkward that we've already eaten his cake, but then Joe the president/publisher passed around the aforementioned pocket watch (that was a quick two weeks) and had us all stealthily sneak into Steve's tiny office to present it to him, but that took forever because he'd sent Steve out on some mission and he got sidetracked. Joe said some very nice words and we all clapped and then we got back to work.

Oh, and ate the brownies Steve had made and brought in himself. Except not me because my system is a jerk.

Anyway, Monday was kind of a nice last day for Steve, I think, because everyone was being all sentimental and Steve was pretty jacked he was hanging it all up. I gave him a jar of raspberry jam I'd made the evening before and the picture Johanna had made for him--Steve with his two cats, raccoon and skunk. I should have taken a copy of it because that picture was awesome. Also, Johanna thinks raccoons look like bigger cats.

And then, like I said, he kept coming back--on Tuesday because he didn't want our new circulation manager thrown to the wolves on her first paper day, on Wednesday because he had raccoon stories, I think, or else he was still cleaning out his office, and then on Thursday briefly to bring by some plastic packing boxes he no longer needed and was wanting to find homes for. You know what, though? Happy Steve is fun. It was a good way to go out.

We'll probably see him a lot this week too.

My favorite Cranky Steve posts:

Cranky Steve probably has rabies

However much I do

Mormon Chicken

Ah, the memories!

Friday "Art," Happy Fourth of July edition

As seen at my favorite farm stand. How cute is that?

Have a lovely day, my internet friends!

It's the most wonderful time of the year

Last week was the annual St. Mary Altar Society Rummage Sale, a week-long extravaganza and collective parish event. You know, since I'm a minimalist and all, and since I've been a minimalist for like two years now (Eric swears we were minimalists before we were minimalists, and I think there's a lot of truth to that, but still), you'd think that I wouldn't have that much to get rid of at this point. And yet, I really did.

Actually, we all did. It's like a holiday of sorts in our house, where everyone (except Johanna) happily goes through their stuff and fills up bags to drop off at the church. It's kind of like Christmas in reverse, in that it takes months to prepare for and several trips to get it all done.

I don't know, I think I made like six or seven jaunts to the parish hall by the time it was all said and done. The church secretary was laughing at me when I brought in "just a few more things" as the altar society ladies were setting up, asking if my house was empty at this point.

Sadly, no. But man, what a difference! Our utility room was filled to capacity pre-rummage sale, and now it's echoingly empty. (P.S. Spell check hates "echoingly," but I think it has a nice ring to it, plus! I think I just made up a word!) My reading retreat was also filled to capacity... but it's still not empty. That's because there's a different kind of mess going on in there. But that's another post for another time.

I had thought I'd be able to help this year, but then my work schedule changed right in the nick of time, so whew! Dodged that bullet! (Joke. Um, kinda.) But Abby helped all week (she's already thinking about volunteer hours translating into scholarships), and when I came to pick her up her first day, she was wearing a pair of really funky pants, as follows:

Ugly pants with aforementioned ugly
Christmas sweater from Friday's post.

Ah, how proud she was of this find! She mulled over the thought of leaving them behind, but in the end decided they were too awesome to pass up for $1. She's actually going to use them for a chemistry class cover up next fall (she's taking two science classes, chem and biology. Is this really my kid?), and the thought just thrills her to no end.

Anyway, obviously volunteering really paid off.

As for me, I found three shirts that I was very excited about: A really awesome grayish-brown sweater (I know, sounds odd, totally worked), a light blue J. Crew long-sleeve t-shirt, and something that looks like it would be home on the ball field (gray body, black sleeves). Unfortunately, the sweater made me look like I had bat wings because the cut was weird (too bad, it looked awesome with my black pants), and the ball shirt was way too small (damn! I've always wanted one of those!), but the long-sleeve T-shirt fit nicely and, since it's in great condition, I'm considering that $1 well spent:

Nose shot. Also, see how grey my hair is?

So that's it for this year's rummage sale extravaganza. It feels good to be even lighter on the material front. I'm kind of hoping that I won't have quite so much to donate next year, just because that will mean we're finally getting somewhere, but I guess the good news is that if we do, at least we have an outlet.