It happens every time we tackle a clean-up project around the house.
“We have so much stuff,” someone will say. “Maybe we should have a yard sale.”
And for a minute or so, it seems like a good idea. But only for a minute or so. Then, reality hits us and we realize we are not cut out for hosting a yard sale.
It’s not that we haven’t tried.
Shortly after we were married, we tried selling off those duplicate items created when two households are merged. That was the idea, at least. The reality was about an hour into the sale, we just put a sign out that said “free to a good home,” and called it a day. It appeared we just weren’t cut out for people arriving at our home in the wee hours of the morning and then rejecting our knick knacks that we’d paid $10 for but now were selling for 25 cents.
Several years later, we decided to jump in the yard sale pool again. Our old neighborhood had a community yard sale and we thought this was a sure recipe for success.
We woke up early (though I’m convinced you cannot out-early the early-bird shoppers) and put out our stuff. When we were gathering the items, it appeared we had a ton of stuff. Displayed out in the driveway, it didn’t look nearly as impressive or abundant.
The traffic through the neighborhood was heavy. Our next-door neighbor’s sale, with its fancy quilts and nearly new furniture, was popular. Our old Duran Duran CDs and three Frisbees weren’t nearly as attractive.
One man did wander over, milling through the items piled up on a small table.
“How much for the table?” he asked.
“Oh,” I replied, startled that we had a customer and that he talked to me. “It’s not for sale. It’s just holding those things.”
“Hmmph,” he said. “Shouldn’t have it out here if it isn’t for sale.”
I was startled. When I gathered my wits, I thought of saying the dog was outside, too, but he, also, wasn’t for sale.
I sat there for about 30 more minutes and then got a plastic bag and threw all the items inside. I took my much-sought-after table into the garage.
That was our last yard sale.
So the idea of hosting another event, while briefly inticing, was short lived. The Gores will stick to donating our extra items. All except that table of course; it’s mine and I’m keeping it.