Today we hit two neighborhood garage sales, and a thrift store 50% sale. (NO, you are NOT allowed to comment about my garage!)
Hubby got another skeet shoot apparatus. “It was five bucks!”
My daughter and I got lots of clothing and misc., not the least of which was a good pair of galoshes. (They’ll be handy at the horse stable where she’s working. TMI!) For my other daughter (the one getting married), I found a brand new wedding scrapbook. The lady said she’d never started it, and she’s been married 15 years. I also found faux flowers, twinkle lights, a binder, a duffle bag, and “Cooking for Two.”
We also got toothpaste and Scrubbing Bubbles. It was a little unusual, the first time, but as the day progressed we discovered several houses liquidating inventory from small businesses, I guess? Really, it’s sort of sad going to garage sales these days. I usually stick to better neighborhoods for my shopping pleasure. The last few years, though, it’s been kind of pathetic greeting yuppies at their patio tables, selling whatever they’ve got: books, computer components, Christmas trees, music, golf clubs.
But it’s a neat thing to do on a Saturday afternoon when there’s nothing else planned. (A couple of us had to work, and we who remain didn’t have the heart to go to the beach without them.) Walking through the neighborhoods afforded the opportunity to visit little kids and old men, to pet doggies and kitties, and enjoy the flowers. And we were together—with no media. All things considered, it turned out to be a good idea.
And as the long-awaited sun began beating down, some children were raking in the dough, helping pay for Grandma’s missions trip by selling canned soda at a dollar a pop (get it?). We got three.
Finally, our wallets were getting low on cash, the back of our little import was getting crowded, and Hubby’s attention span was running out—so we cut our losses.
Who knows? We might go again some time. But first, I must purge 18 items from that garage…