May 9, 2012

The signs are all here.  They are popping up like Spring flowers.  I see the signs.  I recognize them from years of study.  These aren't metaphysical signs...no these are physical signs.  Yard Sale Signs.  They draw me to them like a fly to a steaming pile.  Why?  I watch Hoarders, I know what could happen if it got out of control.  I have a 7 year old daughter who has the genetic propensity to read these same signs.  On the way to school every morning now we see a new one and she says "oohyardsalethisweekendmomcanwego?"  I've taught her the fine art of the 'drive by'.  Drive by the yard sale slowly, stalk it, gather as much info with your eyes and gut in the 10 or 15 seconds it takes to move past the house.  Within that same window of time you should know whether or not it's worth it to stop. 
I cleaned her room last week.  Dammit.  I wish I would've taken a picture before I cleaned it because then you would see the dark side of yard sales.  The "Not only could I end up on Hoarders but I'm grooming a 'keeper' too" dark side.  The difference between Olivia (my mini me) and I is I don't have a problem throwing stuff away.  There is some catharsis in that.  She, however, has a big problem chucking the junk in the bin.  She keeps everything.  I like shoes...she takes the shoe boxes and fills them with crap.  I like make up.  She takes the empty old nasty make up containers and sticks them in the boxes.  She actually went into her big sister's room and took some dead flowers out of a vase and put them in a box. 
At Christmas time Olivia likes to give as well as receive.  The problem is she gives away her own junk.  She lovingly wraps up half eaten candy bars, old socks and other detritus she finds in her room, puts a bow on it and gives each family member 'something special.'  We all play along, smiling and saying "Oh wow a chewed up dog toy!  Just what I wanted!"  Last year she gave her dad a tiny doll brush.

Anyway back to yard sales...you have to admit there is something voyeuristic about going to yard sales.  It's like peaking into the window of someone's garage or digging through their donation bags.  Not quite trash but damn close.  Plus I like to haggle and you cannot haggle with a Nordstrom sales girl over the price of a Burberry Scarf.
"How much for the old rice cooker that may be missing its cord?"
"Ten dollars?"
"How about a dollar?"
"Ok"
"Oh and if you throw in the macrame plant hanger I'll give you another 50 cents..."
"Sure."

I love that whole dialogue.  It's always roughly the same, just the items change.  People want to get rid of their crap and there are other people in this world who think there's some value to said crap.  I keep thinking one day I'll be digging through random, ugly pictures in someone's front yard and come across a Jackson Pollack that these poor suckers assumed was something their kid did in 1st grade art class.  It's like buying a lottery ticket only there's a greater possibility you'll get fleas by bringing it into your house.
I doubt if this blog is going to be all about yard sales because, you know...there's more to me than that.  I might taken random pictures of piles of laundry or do a turd count.  (You'll have to come back and read the next blog to find out exactly what a turd count is...)  I'll talk some about music and stuff that happens behind the scenes on The Lia Show.  You'd be amazed (or at least amused) by some of the strange things that happen in that studio.  I invite you to comment or share the link.  Hey what I like is when you send me pictures of your yard sale finds.  I love to be simultaneously impressed and jealous by your coups.  Here's mine:

This fine piece of...history is a WW2 bullet used to shoot down Japanese war planes in the South Pacific.  Freaking awesome.  Cost me $40.  I'm not sure what it's worth but my husband likes it and uses it daily...you figure out how.