Occasionally, we travel in time.
Sally and I had a yard sale. De-clutter. Make a bit of spending money. We anticipated those two outcomes.
I dreaded the work involved in preparing. Hours in the attic and in closets. Hauling stuff from here to there. Backache. Sweat. Decisions about what to get rid of and what to keep. Arguing about value. I hate selling things for one dollar or less that cost $30-$50. Dread. All that negative gunk happened just as I expected.
What surprised me were the happy moments. A garage sale offers opportunities for reflection. Time Travel to the past.
We sold the iron pot in which I had fried thousands of bream, bass and catfish. I haven’t used it in a decade. The rusty old bucket needed to go, but I enjoyed good memories as I toted it to the garage.
We called each of our daughters for permission before getting rid of anything they might want us to keep. Just picking up Julie’s Rainbow Brite dance costume made me smile. It could rot and we would still keep it. Jenna wanted to be sure I was not selling the good baseball cards she had bought me as a gift. Greg Maddux is safe, Jenna.
Hats worn at costume parties.
Orange drink cups from Clemson football games.
Time Travel to the past.
Time Travel to the future, also. We sold six dining room chairs to a young family expecting their second child. Good stuff. Her grandkids can sit in those chairs.
Don’t tell our other customers, but we gave one of Julie’s dance costumes to our neighbor so she could play dress up. The future came pretty quickly, because the paparazzi have already spotted her sporting her new glam clothes. (See accompanying photo!)
A lot of folks who come to garage sales are boring, buying collectibles to sell on eBay or at their own flea markets. That’s fine, but there’s no joy in having someone scrutinize a David Winter Cottage to see if there is a flaw.
It’s much more fun to see a high school kid get excited about buying a cup with a Happy Face for a quarter.