Twice a year a realtor living in our neighborhood sponsors a community yard sale. She does all the pre and post organizing -- ad in the paper, map to the participating homes at front entrance to our development, balloons on the mailboxes of those selling items, even lines up the Good Will truck to sweep by at 4:00 to pick up the rejects. We've played this game a couple times in the 11 years we've lived here. The first time Lys and I ecstatically counted our $350. The second time we dragged in, exhausted, counted our $67 and said, never again. Well, it's been a few years. Times, tastes, and interests have changed. Visions of someday downsizing to an easy to care for condo dance in my head some nights. So next weekend, we're going to try it again.
Among our "one man's junk is another's treasure" (we hope) are:
Equestrian clothes, horse tack, a slide projector that's been on the top shelf of the garage since we moved in, desk organizers (how many do I really need!), duplicate scrapbook supplies, stereo speakers (not working--hmmmm), bleached out lawn chairs, videos and CD's, cutsie decorative teapot (I've moved on from that phase), an office chair, a couple lamps, dust ruffle for the bed, soccer and basket balls, stuffed animals (the girls have moved on), and who knows what else we'll find.
Today Lys is going through her closet -- she claims there is nothing in there, but I spied a plastic zebra peeking out of a box and I know she doesn't play with those anymore (she's in college afterall).
My attitude toward this yard sale is -- if it doesn't sell, what the h__ -- at least my house has less clutter!