I don’t know where you’re from, but around here, we like a good deal.
And what could be a better deal than me taking your old Christmas decorations off your hands for, say, a dollar? What, that’s not enough? Are you crazy? They’re going for 75 cents down the street! Okay, okay. I’ll give you $1.10 if you’ll throw in a Ziploc baggie of all the holiday cards you’ve received in the last 10 years and a pair of socks with reindeer on them.
To go garage saling (please join me, won’t you, in the verbification of America?) is one of the pleasures of having lived through the winter.
You remember winter, don’t you, or at least remember me whining about it?
And yea the deities looked down/over/askance at the inhabitants of the frozen land and said, you know what they need? Those poor saps need to buy paperback books for a quarter.
And it was good.
And honestly, that’s what I’ve been doing lately: stocking up on books for the winter. Like a library-bound chipmunk, my figurative cheeks stuffed with best sellers (hey – leave my literal cheeks out of it!), I pile them up in the corners, waiting for winter.
My most recent foray into the land of garage sales yielded four books, a picture frame, an unopened container of talcum powder, four embroidered pillow cases and a toddler.
The pillow cases were in great shape, but all that kid did was cry. I had to take him back.
The weekend is busy again: Amy’s birthday pub crawl, Sarah’s cocktail party at the beautiful La Belle Vie, yoga, laundry, kitty-petting, the obligatory sleeping in and making of the coffee, and now the hunting/gathering urge to drive from neighborhood to neighborhood in search of people selling stuff…
Sounds like an episode of Cops in the making, doesn’t it?
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