Yard Sale

The suburban garage can hold many an untold treasure. My family's homes were always spacious, with enough room to hold anything that might not be immediately needed, but could certainly be useful in the future. Our garage in Wichita held an extra full sized freezer, so that we might always have a steak should we need it. Our Oklahoma City garage had it's own extra room/workspace, which was filled with dried flowers, florist's tape and ribbon-- all in order for my mom to make seasonal wreaths for our front door. My parents' current garage in Seattle is so filled with...stuff...that neither car can fit in. There's a pantry, tools, and my childhood, all boxed up.
I do recall having garage sales in Wichita. We could plan a day with neighbors and friends, and set stuff out on our long, winding driveway. Sale hunters start early, so we would be out at 6:30 or 7:00, usually with a box of Dunkin' Donuts and coffee and hot chocolate. We would sell old toys, appliances, and I remember trying to sell my Debbie Gibson and Paula Abdul tapes.
Since living in Boston, I have moved apartments every few years, so have kept my belongings relatively trimmed. But, after living here for 11 years, certain things have had their day in the sun. So when Steph suggested a yard sale (small yard, no garage), I offered up my lawn and emailed ET#1 and my girlscout co-leader, Amy, to join in. I bought cute colored stickers and tags with pre-printed prices and started going through my closets and basement. I spent a weekend transferring cds to my iBook and iTunes, cleaned off my bookshelf of read books and decided to give the pink satin party pants a chance at a new home with someone younger and thinner.
ET#1 brought by her treasure trove of items including shoes, a vcr (with remote!) and some wooden combs (a note to ET#1-- these did not sell, but at your request, I held on to them and will return to you).
The Saturday of the yard sale my excitement was such that I awoke at 6:45 after a delightful dream in which my whole block was involved in the yard sale and friends I hadn't seen in years came by and everyone was laughing and playing the guitar...and of course raking in millions. I waited and waited for Steph and finally texted her, just to make sure she was up and hadn't overslept. About 5 minutes later she and her charge, 9 year old M, showed up with a mini-van full of kids' books, puzzles, a changing table, handbags, adirondack chairs (which I claimed for myself) and a table full of frames.
It was about 90 degrees in the shade and we haphazardly displayed our wares and waited for people to show up. And soon they did. Some people just glanced around, but many knew what they were looking for ("you got any computer parts?" or "I see cds, but how about dvds?"). One woman took all of the shoes, as well as some handbags. A pair of eldery men berated me for charging $3 for each of my cds ("You're out of touch!") while in the same breath asking if I had any disco (answer? no). Many people knew each other from the yard sale "circuit" ("I'll meet you over Wyman St.") and several people bought stuff they were clearly going to resell later.
By 1:30 we had done pretty well, were hot and tired and ready to donate the rest. We made about $175 in all, but it wasn't about the money. It was about cleaning house, physically and mentally, meeting the neighbors, sharing with the community and enjoying a summer day outside. In fact, I was reminded of the Mastercard commercials when M found one of ET#1's old watches:
price of sale tags and stickers: $11
price of coffee to get us through the morning: $6.50
price of book club bestsellers: $0.50
the look on M's face when told she had earned the watch through her helpful care with counting change to customers: priceless