The Day After The Yard Sale

I do not know the artist to give credit for the delightful cartoon I found on the computer today but it shows how Pat and I survived our colossal yearly yard sale. We both told stories of waking up at three a.m., having dreams of what was to come . . . up at five a.m., doors open by six thirty, first customer by seven a.m. and then the deluge began. For the better part of the day, with maybe a half hour restpite now and then . . . well time to straighten up the stock and realign the books, but rest was not to be had until we closed the doors at two p.m.

Some really nice folks came through those garage doors. We were told that we had one of the very best sales in town, clean, priced right, well marked and an open mind to wheeling and dealing. That was nice to hear but we also found that the more leave-way you gave to bargain the more the bargainer wanted. It is just human nature.

A lot of hard work goes into a yard sale, at least for us, as we clean, price and 'show' the wonderful treasures we have found over the years. There is never enough 'man' stuff though, as they look for tools, fishing gear and the like, but some are readers and they gravitate towards the books. I was in charge of the books this year so boxed them, had them all going in the right direction to read the authors and titles, only to find that people do not care if they are in order or not as they browse, read a bit, and choose the ones they want. My cry was " the more you buy the cheaper they are", and it worked. Some went off with bags filled to the brim. We have a few left which we will donate to the library sale.

Meanwhile Pat was inundated with groups buying all of those beautiful treasures she has such a good eye for. I think she was told that many times during the day. She lives with the special pieces and then changes out and goes on to something different. So many people have an eye for the 'old' pieces and light up when they see a bowl or a dish they love and want in their homes.

All in all it was a beautiful day. It was really enjoyable for the most part. There is always one, or two, who are not happy unless they ply their trade of walking off with some one piece they admire. It is sad to see and really stupid to 'steal' at a yard sale. So we let it go, chalk it up as it really is no big loss in money but it is in ethics and respect for a fellowman.

It is tiring, no doubt about it, but fun. I think Pat said, once again, "this is my last yard sale" . . . I agree. BUT, is it? Well at least until next time.