Garage Sales

I hate selling things. 

I mean it, I really do.  Everything I own is worth far more to me than the price I put on it with a little sticker for  someone else.  Take a garage sale, for instance.  I totally understand and really believe in their benefit.......get rid of stuff and junk and offer it up to be someone else's treasure.  But, I have so many emotions attached to my "things".  When someone comes and paws through my belongings I am confident that my "thing" won't be appreciated.  Just, how could it be?  After all, it has no sentimental value to that scavenger.

Before moving to Texas my sunflower friends helped put on a garage sale for me.  "Get rid of all that junk so you won't have to haul it 2500 miles."   So, I did!!!  And, oh, what a heartbreak!!!  One special sunflower LOVES hosting garage sales.  She loves the selling, the bartering, the setting up, the folding down......she loves the whole experience.  In fact she puts several on at her own home to raise money for different causes throughout the year.  She's good at it and she has no remorse when a sale is made.     Absolutely LOVES them.  Picture her after she's put the money in the little cash box, she flits about refolding clothes, up-righting picture frames, sorting the glassware, re shelving books while engaging each customer into conversation where they then become her best friend and because now they are her best friend..........they buy, buy, buy.   And, she experiences no anguish for what I've lost.  Instead, at the end of the day she thinks on the number of new friends she's gained.   I love her......everybody loves her.

Now, me, when it comes to selling my stuff, I should be a Pansy, instead of one of those bold stand up straight, taller than everyone else in the garden sunflowers.   Call me a wimp.  Every thing I put out to sell has a story in my heart.  Lots of items in this particular garage sale were unused wedding gifts from 17 years before.  Good things, that I just never used.  Some were gifts, for example,  from Mrs. So and So who painted the little what-not on the back and wrote a personal note.  Some even had cards still attached.  UGH!   I shed tears that day.  Call me a wimp, or Pansy!!

But, on the flip side, I LOVE garage saling.  Nothing is more fun than piling into a huge van with several friends and their kids and roaming the streets on an early Saturday morning, searching out "a good deal" or "a steal".  **(Because that is really what garage sales are, "Steals".  Another reason why I don't like anyone to get that kind of satisfaction from my personal things...........a steal!!!  call me Pansy!)

Then, because of peer pressure and wanting to have fun on a glorious Saturday morning with my friends, I got sucked into selling some more of my stuff.
One day last summer several of us put on a group garage sale.  Many were invited to contribute to the sale and many sold.   Reagan and I contributed a table worth of  things.  I left her to our table so I wouldn't have to watch the piranhas mull through our things that I was emotionally tied to.    I told Reagan to "make the deals".  It's good to toughen her up when she's young.    Meanwhile, I shopped..........and shopped.  Steals, for sure!!!

When a sale opens at 7, people usually start to arrive at 6:30..trying to get an edge on making their deals.    Then by 10:00 when it is getting hot (Remember, August in Texas), there's not much action.  So, to encourage buyers, or to just pass the time,  (Truly, I think the men started getting a little low blood sugar, or maybe they just had too much sugar and ..........

 They modeled their wares

Then, to pass the time, the ladies staged some of the wares into a "talk show" set.  They pretended to interview our gullible garage sale attendees, (does this make them want to never come back by here again?)  Some ran away from the stage for fear of being "on stage".

Then around 11:00, I noticed sleeping..........call it the sun, overwork, or let down from anxiety, or just call it a baby.  She has the right to sleep, anytime, anywhere...........

I looked over at our once piranhas infested table and noticed Reagan was GONE.  Had they eaten her alive?  I started feeling sorry for her.  What had I done as a Mom, leaving my precious, vulnerable daughter alone with the killers?  I ventured closer to the table thinking there would be carnage, no cash box, no daughter.  I was thinking back how I hate selling, oh why did we come to this, why did we bring our things to sell and why had I been such a Pansy and let my young sprouting vulnerable sunflower...............
Under the table:

 She was done, ALL DONE.  Then, I noticed there was no more bait on the table, the cash box was full.  She deserved a snow cone!!!!  Just so you know, snow cones are a BIG thing in Gatesville, TX.  There's no Baskin Robbins, or Jamba Juice............but there's "Snow Biz" and he sells any flavor, any size.  Perfect for an August, after garage sale treat!!