Every year for Mother’s Day, my present to my mom is one day of hard labor. In the past I’ve landscaped her yard and cleaned the basement. This year, we got ready for the grandaddy of all yard sales.
Since I outgrew my love of knickknacks at age 10 or so, I’ve shuddered at the mere mention of a yard sale, but this one is an evil necessity. I’m actually psyched to unload all the crap—er, valuable merchandise—we’ve amassed that won’t fit in our basement-less, closet-less house.
But the price of doing so is sorting through my mom’s mountain of junk, including everything she packed up from my grandma’s. I basically spent the day explaining, over and over, that no one in their right mind is going to pay cash of any denomination for a wind sock made out of an old soda bottle.
And, naturally, I brought home twice as many boxes as I came with. Mostly kitchen stuff, but there was a box of drink stirrers and cocktail garnishes, including these awesome little monkeys. A cherry’s supposed to go on their front paws, but I’m still trying to figure out how they hang on a glass. They make me want to take up bartending.
So what’s your take on yard sales? Do you have them? Shop them? Avoid them like swine flu?