Risky Business

So this morning, as my ADD-Working Mom brain jumped from considering one unfinished task to another (hmmmm, what should I do with my couple spare Saturday hours before General Conference?), I started jumping from going on a bike ride in the warm humidity of a Texas spring, to cleaning, to unpacking, hitting the community garage sale, to . . . wait a second!! Community garage sale? There is an opportunity for multi-tasking here! I hopped on my bike and began the garage sale circuit.

Yes, I am still unpacking, and up for a little garage sailing--I got rids of some stuff before the big move and would like some chairs so I can sit on the porch in the sweltering heat of the summer y'all. Then I remembered why I've switched my loyalties over the years--a rarely garage sail, I'm a pretty strict Craigslister. Why? I thought you'd never ask. You see, garage sailing typically results in a lot of time combing through somebody's junk coming home with a lot of stuff I didn't need in the first place, whereas Craigslisting is much more pinpointed--get in, find what you want, get out. Nevertheless, garage sailing, particularly close to home, can sometimes result in great treasure. However, bikes are not great for hauling said treasure home. Especially considering I gave away my bike trailer in the move.

So back to my story. I'm on my bike, doing the old garage sale drive-by. You know, slow down, try and act like you're just on a little ride, not evaluating their junk in the blink of an eye. You may even circle back and holler out "GOT ANY PATIO CHAIRS?!!" But that feels a bit impolite. If you're going to ask, you may as well stop. But what about when you've decided to stop, but by the time you've stopped your bike (or car), you've realized you really shouldn't have? How much time are you obligated to spend gazing at mounds of baby clothes and chipped dishes before you say "thanks a lot!" and head out without feeling like a rude schmuck who's just spent all of 12 seconds gazing condescendingly on their preciously priced stuff and declared it all worthless junk? There was so much baby gear out there today that I was concerned it might be contagious, even in a drive-by. Besides, I had very limited time before first session. The good thing about garage sailing on a bike is that you're very limited on what you can carry away, so while you think--hmmm, that fat Buddha lamp just might go well in the living room, since you can't strap it to your back too easily, you're bound to walk away and think about it. The distance of course is bound to bring you back to your senses and ask yourself "What the @!*! was I thinking? I need a lamp of Dionysis in the living room, not Buddha!

I digress. So I had picked up a hedge trimmer for $3 and was balancing it on my handlebars when I stopped at one last sale Just as I was contemplating picking up a box of adult diapers (you never know), I saw it. Just the thing I must have unknowingly come seeking this day--or perhaps it sought me. RISK, the game of World Domination. Do you have any idea how many hours of my childhood were spent in pursuit of World Domination? I have successfully indoctrinated my children into George Lucas's world of Star Wars (much to my husband's dismay), really, what is left besides Risk? Ethan turns 8 in a couple of weeks. I think given his obsessive, belligerent, dominating personality, he will be a natural and is likely ready to assume the quest for World Domination. And, it was only a dollar.

So with my two purchases of the day carefully balanced, I made my way home. The thick humidity was already upon me for this my first bike ride of the new climate. Have you noticed how much more you smell things when you're on a bike? I o. My husband thinks my sniffer is a bit supercharged (I can't believe he can't smell the cat box sometimes, but then again, he couldn't seem hear the baby in the middle of the night either . . . ), but sometimes, a good whiff is all it takes to bring back a memory (for good or bad) so strong you nearly drop your hedge trimmer and board game and fall off your bike.

Today smelled like Florida. Totally Florida. I spend 9 months biking around Vero Beach when I was 25. It was a great time. Weird, but a great time. And today Texas smelled like Florida. I guess that makes sense. It was comforting, in a weird sort of way. I was only in Vero for 9 months, but I guess a familiar scent makes a new situation at least familiar. If you know what I mean.

So this evening, Ethan and I took on the world. At 9:30 we had to back away from the table, leaving the troops in position for the night, ready to take up the battle again in the morning. (The kid has been home all week with strep and the flu, I suppose I shouldn't keep him up all night too). He's taking to the game really well (I'm so proud). I anticipate wasting some more hours of my life in the pursuit, but hey, I'm convinced Risk made me smarter--or at least kept me out of trouble--so hopefully it'll do the same for my child as well. And maybe I'll be able to beat him more often than I could my brothers . . .