Selling memories at a yard sale


My husband is a nice city boy, but you would never know it. He likes country music, and having yard sales. I really think he likes all the people, and rearranging stuff. He’s one of those working types.

I noticed his love of yard sales shortly after I  married him. This was in 1973, when yard sales were not as socially acceptable as they are now.

I was sitting in our old rented town-house,  I looked out the window, and there he was, outside with a bunch of junk. He was pricing stuff that was more suitable to be put in File 13, otherwise known as the garbage can.

Not only was he selling junk, but he was selling stuff we still needed. Like casserole dishes, appliances, etc. At one yard sale, he even sold the guitar that my parents bought me for my 16th birthday. (Okay, I never really learned to play it, but c-mon. He did ask me just before someone purchased it. I agreed under pressure.)

Not a lot has changed in 40 years. He’s having another one today. Okay, it’s a great idea of getting rid of clutter, but he just sold a perfectly good lawn chair. For $2.00.

Going down Memory Lane
It is funny how we attach memories to stuff. Like my son’s soccer ball, or an old picture that we tucked away in the corner. How about my exercise ball that I haven’t been on in two years. Chances are I’m not going to jump on it any time soon. .

There is a rocking horse that my parents bought for their first grandchildren. It eventually found it’s way to my house.  My kids rocked the heck out of that horse. It fell apart, but my husband put it back together in time for the yard sale. The old steed doesn’t look too bad.

I’m hoping maybe one day there will be a little one who wants to rock it back and forth. But, it’s pretty used. Would they want to go on an old beat up horse?  Wouldn’t it be better to get a new one?

I can still see my parent’s excited faces when they bought the thing. Who knew the horse would outlast them by years and years?

I know if some little kid comes up, puts his arm around it, and begs his mom, I will be a goner.

I refuse to let my husband sell  those 3 grimy Cabbage Patch Kids. How could I ever get rid of Greasy Foo Foo and Loraine Loraine?  I do apologize, but I seem to have forgotten the other one’s name. I hope I haven’t hurt her feelings. I only know she was loved to pieces.

It is  now the end of the day, and somehow he managed to make a profit out of a lot of random stuff.  Some of it was in good shape though. Some of it was tools, plugs and extension cords .

We practically gave away a perfectly good carry-on bag. It’s too big for me, and I’m never going to use it again.

The old rocking horse

There’s another day to the yard sale. Probably, I’ll put out some of the old white dishes, and someone will buy them.

But, I hope the  rocking horse doesn’t catch anyone’s eye.

Is there something you regret selling at a garage or yard sale? Please comment.