by Ann Atwood

Created on: January 16, 2009   Last Updated: January 19, 2009

FEARFUL WORDS

What words bring fear to your heart? Huge roller coasters? Mountain climbing? Claustrophobia? Well, the two fearful words for me are TAG SALE! I'd rather go on the highest, tipsiest roller coaster in the world rather than prepare for a tag sale.

Just the mention of having a tag sale can have the most rational person running off in another direction and yell "No tag sale for me!" Now I know there are some people who love them and even make their living by doing everything involved in tag sales. However, I couldn't afford the luxury of finding such a special soul.

I really should start with the fact that my partner is a pack rat. A major pack rat. She"ll save things that a normal person would have tossed out years ago. Little pieces of old receipts, past motor vehicle insurance cards, and pens. Hundreds of pens. I often wonder what goes through some people's minds.

As I started the preparation approximately two years ago, yes, you read that correctly, two years ago. It was a sweltering, humid day when I took my first steps to cleanliness and the removal of clutter in our den. Thankfully the air conditioner was humming away, sending a pleasant breeze in my direction. However, even with the canned air blowing on me, I swear I lost 20 pounds of water due to the struggles I had in the den.

How do you clean out a room that's so packed it's almost impossible to stand in? With great trepidation. "OK" I said to myself "one step at a time. Make that a step at a time." Transfixed, I almost let the whole fine mess overwhelm me. Then little by little, garbage bag by garbage bag, I started to sort items to be trashed, those to keep and those for a charitable agency. Needless to say this would be the most difficult part of the job.

I should tell you that the pack rat had been quite ill that summer, and perhaps I was taking advantage of her illness to plot and plan out my tag sale adventure. Suddenly there was a flaw in my plans. Pam, the pack rat, stuck her head in the den and said, "Watcha doing?" Oh no, caught in the act. I felt an immediate flush through my body. "Well" I told her, "I think it's time we had a tag sale and I'm sorting out what to keep and what's not needed anymore." After saying those dreaded words more perspiration dripped down my back. I felt like a little kid who gets caught with her hand in a cookie jar.

So there it was, out in the open. Even as I spoke those two dreaded words, tag sale, it was enough to make Pam suddenly take on a gargoyle like

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