I peeked out my window. There sat a pickup truck across the street waiting for the kill. More cars and trucks began to descend on our little side street and it was only 7:15 a.m.. The garage door wasn’t to go up until 8:00. Promises must be kept. “NO EARLY SALES!”

Just then my daughter-in-law slid in the side door, armed with money box and additional tags. “Where do these go?” she whispered gesturing wildly, so as not to start a riot among the people lined in front of my garage door.

“Just put them on the table.” I did a couple of last minute tasks, trying to appear calm, collected and braced for the descending mob.” Then with all in order, I pushed the garage door button. It obligingly ascended to reveal a menage of powerful and determined looks.

Three people circled my maple dinette, pointed and said, almost in unison, “I want that!”

“She spoke first!” I managed apologetically, maybe I didn’t price it high enough. But then, although it looked very nice yet, I’d had to glue those chairs together on a regular basis for the last five years. I hoped the stout woman who won the argument would keep up the procedure–or she might experience the chairs limitations in an unexpected way.

“A real steal, I heard her whisper to her friend. They both seemed so proud of her shiny new
bargain. I could only but join in their enthusiasm.

People do strange things at garage sales. Large stately women try on petite clothes. Friends of many years cart off seventy-five dollar chairs for ten. Loving neighbors give you there best wares to sell for them just to increase your volume. And husbands become distraught with all “this foolishness” of putting up racks and carting tables around.

“What’s your problem?” I blasted at my husband as I sipped coffee from a four cornered cup that he had bought in a bunch of things at a farm auction.

“A real bargain” he had boasted. “I got all of this for a quarter.” Included in the odd assortment was a replica of a cannibal, as part of the family had been missionaries in Africa at one time.

“Did you ever try to drink out of a four cornered cup?” I had asked, “Well someone else did and that’s why we got them.” I washed the cup and put it out for sale.
Well, the day wore on, with people coming and going amid mostly friendly dickering and persuasion. I saw my housewares, used clothing and outdated furniture leaving as “new interesting finds” to happy faces, and my garage tables was now almost empty.


Having a yard sale is a real adventure and a real study of human nature, my own included, I rationalized later, as I counted to ten, waiting to see if my newly acquired toaster would throw the toast or burn it this time. I’d exchanged it with a neighbor for the four-cornered cups. She thought they were quite a novelty and would go wonderfully with her unique teapot. She then convinced me that her toaster would be a marvelous addition to my kitchen. I should never had listen, I admonished as I caught the toast as it came my way.

I also noticed some pretty white material among some leftover items. These curtains might look nice in the bathroom for a change. I thought as I swished them around gaily.Then turning to the line of a few leftover clothes hanging in the garage, I discovered a jacket I had found in a bargain basement sale that I hadn’t gotten around to getting anything to match. I had seen one similar to it at Macys window a few days before. Maybe I’ll just take it to town and find material to sew a skirt.

As I finished the last of the cleaning up and went into the house, I noticed something sticking on my finger. I peeled off a round piece of tape and read. Size 9-10 @ $2.00.” Two dollars is about all my husband would take for me about now!
Gosh I need a break. I think I’ll take the extra cash and go shopping!