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So how, you ask, was the first moving give-away? Everything went! EVERYTHING WENT! And by that I mean everything we intended to give away for free WENT on the driveway and the adjacent apron!

And sat there!

For hours!

Wife had posted it on local busybody boards, and gotten some queries from people who were definitely interested in this or that, but of course it’s not a legally binding thing to email about an item’s availability or additional characteristics. So she was a bit downcast by the middle of the afternoon. Mind you, all the important things from the shed were mostly gone, and this had been intended a shed giveaway before mission creep caused a . . . change in the focus, shall we say, and before you knew the Nation’s Strategic Gift Bag Supply and the bags women somehow accumulate by the score (only six, to be fair) and books and so on was out on the plastic. This made sense; as long as we’re having people over to pick through our shed items, why not give them the opportunity to take - but first, if you please, marvel - at the collection of 1,305,496 tea-light candles?

I have to stop right here, and carefully calibrate how I am going to parse up the story of the sale. I know it will be a Substack column, and a free one, so you’re not losing out on anything. I don’t feel bad offloading material to the free page. But I also have to think how this particular event will factor in the new book I began on Halloween, which I decided to write while I was standing here.

Behold, four minutes after what was probably the lowest of the low points. Portrait of a man who has decided to seriously look for new dishes because he's going to need them:

The new project is an account of this entire magillah (which Pages just autocorrected as “magical” - hoo boy no) from start to whatever the finish may be. (hah: he thinks the ending isn't already written.)It’s written in the second person, which works well and gives me distance. It’s called “Let’s Not and Say We Did.”

That was Thursday, when I had completely emptied out, and decided to go to Crate and Barrel and look at new dishes for The Final Resting Place, or the Fortress of Solitude, or the Hip New Pad, or whatever term I land upon. I have been better since and we have been better since. The process of winnowing for the giveaway, and moving all the stuff out, went well with little friction - wonderful, considering her exhaustion and the whole Psychic Weight of Objects and Things that had been pressing down on her temples like the fists of the Gods.

There were things I did not want to throw out but C’mon, you can’t hold on to junk just because it’s a trigger. And there are so many triggers.

This was Natalie’s crayon box. I bought it before she was born, at Galtier Plaza in St. Paul one evening. I think I was going to the TV station to do my Friday night monologue.

She had vetted her room a few weeks ago and let go of some youthful things.

It has to be. I do remember buying that anime-style toast pillow, at a store in Rosedale. She had loved the friendly loaf.

This . . . was hard.

It’s a very simple puzzle. Maybe 30 pieces. Good for small children. We put it together, together, every year, until we didn’t.

UPDATE: About 37% went. Not bad. All the puzzles went . . .

Except for Santa. I set that one aside. I think we'll put it together this Christmas. In fact I know we must.

We continue with a small amount of manufactured enthusiasm to explore the trademarks of 1925, because no one else is. NO ONE!

All I can think of The Day the Earth Stood Still, except the giant robot is a Kluxer.

Wonder what happened to this company? Maybe they come up with another product that had a more distinctive name.

Actually, they'd been making their signatre product since 1913.

Sorry.

When last we saw our hero, the Blackhawk, and his side kick, a Blackhawk, they were in a burning hayrick that exploded and killed everyone. Or not:

Figured as much. Well, what’s left? Arresting Laska the Female Red Spy, and unmasking the Leader. It’s probably that guy six eps back who was a double agent or something. Or it’s the twin of the guy we met in the first ep. Remember him? Or it’s The Ghost. I don’t know. And by this point I doubt anyone cared; it was just a box to tick.

Well, they’re captured and taken to the Mexican villa to meet with the local jefe, but he’s really an imposter on the side of the Reds. Of course, he has to blab.

The real owner of the hacienda shows up and shoots some guys and then go chasing after Mr. Case, and I will damned if I remember who he is supposed to be. They end up back in town, and hey!

It’s Johnny Spy Guitar!