Ebay day

Huge black storm clouds are slowly passing by our lounge window, having just spectacularly deposited their load. The sliding door is open and cool air is flowing in, a welcome relief to the stifling humidity we have been labouring under. The summer days here remind me of Durban, incredibly hot, the air close and wet, a mid afternoon pause and then the heavens open. I love the smell of rain and the smell of wet earth. The soil here has a different smell to African soil, but the smell of steam rising off hot tarmac is the same. I love the sounds and the smells of the earth. Some people experience the creator at some meeting hall with loads of other people singing hallelujah, but for me I know him in the rain and the wind. I like to stand in the middle of it, and, if we weren't living in a cul de sac I probably would have.

The tv is off, red wine is in our glasses, Anna reads beside me, the dog is chewing her bone, there's a chocolate cake in the oven, by the sounds of things everything is peaceful. Looks can be deceiving, for at the Adlard house this is the first respite in a trying day, for today was an eBay day. An eBay day is when Ben and Anna realize we are in need of some fast cash, so we scurry around the house finding stuff we don't want anymore and put it on eBay hoping some poor fool will buy it from us so our checks don't bounce. Sound like fun, actually no. eBay is serious business and it takes a lot of effort. While Anna photographed old articles of clothing, I decided to rummage through my old college golf bag. After finding among other things my old pitchfork I've had since 11, a year old banana peal, two tubes of old crusty sun tan lotion and a few moldy scorecards I finally struck gold: a silver dollar coin, dated 1879. What luck, turns out an ex mentor of mine now ex communicated had given it to me in an effort to keep himself in my good books, maybe know it can cover our rent check. I run upstairs and show Anna, who is now loading her clothes pictures onto the web, then pull out a soft bristle brush and give the silver a good clean, after which we jump in the car and go to Daryl's Coin Shop in Durham to see what we can get. The shop is old and cluttered with rows of gleaming coins displayed in glass display cases. Daryl looms over the counter, a bear of a man. I proudly present my coin, "I have a silver dollar for you from 1879". The coin is dwarfed in his hand. "This is the first year they came out, unfortunately somebody cleaned it and scoured the surface, lost all it's value. I can give you six bucks for it." I look at him, audibly gasping. I consider my options. Unfortunately I know nothing about coins and my choices are few. Trying to gain some ground, I ask, "Well, how much is it worth?". He replies, "I could probably sell it for 8". I leave with 6, and along with the nine dollars I had in my wallet deposit a grand $15 in our checking account. Then we decide to stop by Wendy's and, along with some other nickels, use my 1971 Kennedy half dollar to buy an ice cold frosty to celebrate. According to my careful calculations we have another $10 to go till we are clear, I wonder what tomorrow my hold?

The day actually started at 7:30 by letting Daisy out then checking James' blog and there learning about the tragedy in London today. Anna and I are both very relieved that all the Adlards on that side of the pond are safe and well. The incident made us both recall being in the Washington DC, a few miles from the Pentagon when the plane hit. What an awful feeling, of being so close to such terrible danger and tragedy. Our prayers are with the friends and families of all the victims and we are very grateful that James, the big brother himself, was not on one of those trains. The storm seems to have abated, but it seems others are brewing.

Ben