This is what my sister Joan and I looked like manning the checkout on Day Two of the garage sale:
It might not have been raining, but the wind was ferocious, and after a few hours of running after books that were literally flying off the shelves, we called it quits. The few brave customers who visited our sale by mid-afternoon in falling temps were greeted by a large pile of free things near the tree in our front yard. My mother’s take for the day was less than $30 and while I made $130, it was hardly worth the hours we spent outside in the cold and wind. I spent another three hours taking tags off items, filling boxes slated for my sister’s consignment store and HalfPrice Books. I brought only one tote of clothing back in the house and a small bin of dental floss and toothbrushes. Then I folded every table, put away the racks, and called it quits for the day, and maybe even the year. This garage sale gig is a huge undertaking, and maybe one I am getting too old for. Maybe I’m tired of strategically using coupons and combining them with sale prices to get things free. Perhaps I’ve had enough with garage sales and all the work they entail.
But then, I feel like that after every sale.