Journal of a Living Lady #405

Nancy White Kelly

Never say never. Three years ago Buddy and I had an enormous yard sale. It was a daunting task gathering all of that stuff, pricing it, and dealing with obnoxious customers who weren’t happy unless the item was a quarter. I publically proclaimed that we would never again have a yard sale, garage sale, porch sale, tag sale or anything similar for the rest of our lives. I broke my word. We had a yard sale last Friday and Saturday.

The singing fish was the first item designated for disposal before procrastination set in. Buddy and I consistently postponed the sale for the slightest of reasons. Neither of us was eager to hassle and haggle.

For six months we moved more and more stuff to the porch. When the singing fish suddenly changed his song from “Take me to the River” to “Fish or cut bait,” we decided it was time for the sale.

Buddy and I waited until nearly dark to put out the yard sale signs on Thursday evening. There was a car in our driveway before we made it home. I hadn’t even had my first cup of coffee the next morning before there was a banging on the door. I looked at the clock. Good grief, Charlie Brown. It wasn’t even seven o’clock.

The early bird shopper asked Buddy if we had any cast iron for sale. It was good for her that we didn’t. She might have been crowned with a skillet for starting our day so abruptly.

Somehow this family of two has accumulated more junk in thirty-six months than we did before the last sale. For weeks we shifted unwanted items to our narrow, yet long front porch. Ironically, many of the sale items waiting to be bought had been purchased at somebody else’s yard sale.

For all our effort we collected a total of $150. It took three pick-up truck loads to deliver the remainders to local thrift stores. In his haste, Buddy accidentally took our new $80 dog crate along with the left-overs. It was on the porch, under a table, and clearly labeled “Not for sale.” What happened to the sign, I don’t know. What happened to Buddy? I plead the fifth.

When I returned to the store to reclaim the new dog cage, it was already sold. So, bottom line, we made $70 for the six months and two days if you don’t count the truck gas and the celebration meal we had over our successful yard sale.