Lenawee Smiles: Sale on summer
It stirs around in you and strikes without too much warning. It might be just under the surface for a couple of years, giving you a pinch now and again just to let you know it is alive and well and waiting.
It's that all-important, not-to-be-denied, likely-or unlikely-to-be-profitable garage sale, yard sale, rummage sale or porch sale.
Sooner or later, its demands to be realized flare too brightly to be hidden any longer. So you heave great sighs, head to the basement, attic or garage—or all three—to see what might be tempting to your neighbors, friends or unwitting strangers.
Time is kind. You’ve forgotten the last sale you had that left you exhausted and with an impressive mass of hives. Those were the result of you plunging your arm into a bush to grab a plastic spoon that fell off the display table. The spoon fell into a nest of vampire bats or some other biting creatures who did not appreciate your intrusion. You’ve forgotten how long it takes to haul out those dusty folding tables, set them up and dust them off. You’ve forgotten how inept you are at deciding what is worth selling, what should be donated right now and what should land in a huge garbage bag next to your right leg.
You don’t know how to post anything on the Facebook Marketplace, so you end up telling your 20 friends on Facebook you are having a sale — they ignore this since they know you’ve nothing new to sell. Craigslist is probably not likely to draw too many buyers. But those white signs with bright red letters spelling out GARAGE SALE with a red arrow pointing to your driveway is the best bet for unloading that which you no longer wish to keep.
Once those tables are taking up the entire garage apron, you start to put out the goods.
Some church friends show up to help and probably wish they had stayed at home to enjoy their air conditioning while reading good literature. Why? Because you are an inept, witless ditherer who cannot make a decision. While you turn your back to continue the dithering dance, they wisely make decisions and things progress into order. Items are priced, tables are filled. As if by magic, divisions of “kitchenware,” “small appliances,” “linens,” “Christmas ornaments,” “basketry,” and other specialty areas are set up. Your daughters are so glad to see you getting rid of things that they too pitch in.
One day to label and set up for a two-day sale. It is great to have friends and family helping you. They politely do not mention that you have chosen the hottest, most humid two days of the year to have this sale. All of you move your chairs out of the relentless sun every four and three-quarter minutes and into some paltry shade. This works until your neighbors start complaining that you are sitting in their kids’ wading pool.
A garage sale is a huge social event. You get to meet new people. One man tells you he lived in your house in the 1960s. He’s taken into the house and explains how it looked when he lived there. One couple buys a set of wicker furniture but can’t pick it up until later.
When they return, they help you move things back into the garage before the rain starts.
Once again, you are struck by the kindness and friendship of this community.
The next day, you go outside to find whatever was left out is waiting for you. No one came by in the night to take it away. What’s left will be donated to a local charity.
Ample applications of some pain balm will be applied to muscles and joints that will not stop complaining. Several naps will be required to get your body back on its normal track.
After expenses, you figure you made about $18.63. That amount should just about cover a fast-food lunch for three people, one of whom swears, as she did three years ago, never to have another garage sale.
Susan Keezer lives in Adrian. Send your good news to her at lenaweesmiles@gmail.com.
This article originally appeared on The Monroe News: Sale on summer