If it doesn't move–sell it.

"Earl," I asked one day, "do you need your computer?"  I sometimes use his because it has a bigger screen and, being closer to the wi–fi router, it can be a bit faster than mine.
"Why–are you going to sell it?"
"Ha, Ha.  Very funny."

Earl calls me the "Craigslist Queen" (I also have an Ebay account) for a reason.  I'm not very remarkable on my feet, but when there is something to sell on a computer, I'm a whiz.  I'll sell anything that's no longer useful (to me), rather than store it.  I've discovered, being home a lot, there is stuff here that goes unused, is taking up space, but may be of value to someone else.  I'm not immune, but look at the notion of 'saving things for a rainy day' as a trap just waiting to spring.

We bought two scandinavian design youth chairs for our grandchildren.  We wanted them to join us at all indoor and outdoor dining tables, but didn't want a high chair look in our home.  Initially, the chairs came with safety harnesses which I removed and then couldn't find (probably threw them out).  They worked well until all four children got to the age when they considered the chairs 'too babyish' and fought over who got stuck sitting in them.  Different life stage, better home, blah, blah, blah.*  The two families who bought the chairs were glad to get them and provide the better home. Mission accomplished.

In some European cultures, it is accepted that magpies are pilferers of sparkly things and prone to pinching them for their nests.  I had always mocked my mother's love of shiny things, teasingly calling her a 'magpie'.  Every gift giving occasion, I would receive some silver something or another.  When she died in 1996, her 'magpieness' was even more evident.  In going through her possessions, I was amazed by the sparkle–silver, gold, rhinestones, and sequins.  There were somethings of value, but not much. It was then that I again said to my family,  "Remember, when you see me sparkle like Grandma, shoot me."**  A bit of an overstatement, but they got the drift.

So, I decided it was time to unload Ada's silver treasures at any price. My formal entertaining days were over and the children had no interest in acquiring more stuff from Grandma.  On top of that, the silver was taking up a ridiculous amount of storage real estate in our home.  Sarah and Kyle helped me bring the silver pieces downstairs and put them on the living room coffee table–the better to photograph them. So far, only one bite on the Craigslist ad. The chairs were easy to sell, the silver may take some time.

In the process of collecting all the silver, Sandie discovered Ada's last collection of treasures—a tangled ball of gold chains.  I remember her wearing them with everything toward the end of her life.  I decided to take the time to untangle them, thinking that they would then be more identifiable and photographable.  I separated them and carefully draped the chains over the handle of my walker.  Looking at them, I thought, "How attractive..." Then, it hit me.  I had inherited the freakin' magpie gene along with the ataxia.***

I have my limits.  As my ataxia progresses, Skeeter and my trike may not be ridden as often as they are now.  Eventually, they will go to a better home.  When the time comes that they're no longer useful to me, someone else will have to do the selling.  But I do have some ideas.

*Previous post: "tammy" as a verb
**Previous post:  There Are No Perfect Glasses 
***Previous post: Thanks, Mom 

The Lesson:  If it's no longer useful, sell it before the magpie gene kicks in.