Yard Sale Sign Rule #127: Spell key words correctly, please

Actually found this gem right up the street from my house.  #Embarrassing 

First of all, check out the hilariosity that is the Check Out That tumblr.  I lol’d my way through four pages in rapid succession, loving every minute.  

Second of all, ponder with me what situation could actually arise that would result in someone selling a coffin at a yard sale… 

checkoutthat:

Check out that lovely area rug.

Right? Tsk tsk to me, because I’m about to spill stories from the yard sailing adventures I went on almost a whole week ago.  I do have an excuse though!  I just got back from a lovely beach vacation with my best friends and in the quaint little cabin we were staying in there was only about a two-by-two foot square where it was possible to steal the neighbor’s wireless internet access.  And even if you could manage to find that elusive square (which was somehow always shifting around the kitchen slightly), a single web page would take about three minutes to load so… sorry I’m not sorry, I guess?

Anyway, anyway, let me set the scene:

Saturday morning, 7 a.m., I arose bright and early.  I actually spent the first two hours of my day hanging out at the yard sale of a wonderful family who allowed me to shadow (read: stalk) them throughout their whole preparation process.  Even though they had advertised that their sale started at 8, the first people arrived at 6:45.  I always thought it was unnecessarily rude or pushy seeming when people stuck “NO EARLY BIRDS!!” at the end of their sale advertisements, but I had no idea that people would show up at such a ridiculous hour.  Yeep!

The best part of hanging around their sale was A. watching the father of the family deal with all the extreme haggling that was going down (that I saw, he matched every asked price with a smile or at least an easy going acceptance) and B. playin’ around with the fah-reaking adorable leetle 2-year-old who had no understanding of why all his old toys were disappearing into strangers’ cars.  He handled it like a champ.  

Upon leaving that sale around 9 a.m., I jetted off to pick up my friend, and yard sale partner-in-crime, Brian.  On the way to the meet him, I passed by one sale and one sign for a different sale.  A good start.  Each with a large coffee in hand, Brian and I hopped out of the car for that first sale I had spotted.  It was an interesting selection.  The woman who was holding it had recently retired her small shop in the center of town, so was trying to get rid of some of her leftover merchandise.  Most of it was pretty tacky, but I did find these bizarre and borderline creepy clowns heads meant to be stuck on, I assume, decorated birthday cakes.  

I planned to just buy five packs at a dime a’piece and then two packs of bows (a quarter each), but the woman hosting the sale poured all the clowns, all the bows, and about five packs of these tiny silk flowers (ancient looking, and again, I assume for cakes) into a big plastic bag and told me that I could take everything for the dollar I was planning on spending.  So now I can wrap about fifteen presents, and spookily decorate about a zillion cakes.  

After scurrying away from that sale, marveling at the number of little children I could now scare with my weirdo clowns, Brian and I started driving pretty aimlessly, scanning the road for more sales and signs.  It didn’t take us long to find one.  I was the one who spotted it, and from that point on we decided to keep a tally of who could spy the most signs or sales.  To keep you from waiting with bated breath: I championed the competition, 5-2 (or something close to that… the important part being that I won).

The sale was being held to raise money for Relay for Life, and had some interesting treasures.  Fancy vintage gloves.  A leather burning kit.  A box of brooches, clip-on earrings, and some too-small-for-my-large-fingers rings.  It also had the book Elements of Style for $2.  I lost my copy freshman year, and it’s one of those journalism staples, so I couldn’t resist.  Funnily enough, my parodied version arrived in the mail later that same day.  Guess which is better.   

After I bought the book, off we went!  The next two sales we stopped at were nothing special.  At the second one, the husband running the sale confessed that he and his wife had originally been planning to move somewhere warm, like Arizona, but that the terrible housing market in Massachusetts kept them from trying to sell their house and get away.  The pair said that a lot of the objects on sale were inherited from the wife’s father when he passed away, like these old truck driver radio/walkie-talkie hybrids. Brian told me that there’s a This American Life episode that exposes all sorts of truck driver code words—anyone who can tell me which ep it is gets a giant prize.  (That prize may or may not be a few of my endless supply of creepy clown packs…)

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At this point, we were both ready to hit up this giant sale in Winchendon (about 20 minutes away) that I had seen advertised around our town for the last two days. Although the drive there was a little long and complicated due to the fact that both Brian and I suck at simple things like reading an exact address off of signs or the screen on my GPS, we made it there alive.  And what a wonderful site greeted us upon arrival!  

As far as free stuff goes, this free stuff was pretty nice. Case in point, Brian found a sweet Polaroid camera! Who needs Hipstamatic now, amirite? Looking forward to all sortsa cool pictures coming out of that baby in the future. 

I also spotted this gem, in the not-free pile.  Didn’t buy it, despite being oh-so-temped.  Abe just looks so damn alluring on the front!  I guess big top hats aren’t kosher in the court room. 

We poked and peered around for about ten minutes, and even though I didn’t find anything, Brian bought a really cool fish shaped wine bottle for only fifty cents.   We decided that he will never carry an alcoholic beverage to a party in any other vessel again.  After getting our fill at that sale, we careened through the back streets of The Winch, but the only two sales we went to had a whole lot of nothing.  

Aaand look where we are now, past 12 a.m!  Which means I will be finishing this post exactly one week now from the adventures.  But guess what? MORE ON THE ROSTER FOR TOMORROW!  This time I promise not to be such a slacker about writing ;]

I’m pop culture illiterate so if those two lovely ladies are actually famous I have no idea who they are, but I love this sign either way.  Sass like that women in the red pants has could convince me to come to a yard sale any day.  

tambourineandthyme:

Oh hey, so I’m having a yard sale and it’s going to be awesome. If you’re an Ohioan, ask for some info :D 

One of my favorite things to post on this Tumblr has always been other people’s yard sale signs.  Although I’ll definitely have to make some of the big, block-lettered, poster-boarded ones in preparation of my own sale, I also want to make some cool graphic ones like this.  No reason a yard sale sign shouldn’t look like an advertisement for a drugged-out dance fest, right?  I would go to this sale.  (Especially because of the added allure of “bike stuff”). 

p-m-s-s:

haha accidentally made my yard sale flier look like i was having a rave. oh well, let’s do that anyway.

That’s right, I’ve finally emerged from Finals Hell.  Unfortunately, it means that I’ve entered another, equally horrible place: The Limbo of Unpacked Bags.  I arrived home on Saturday, and still my car is not completely cleaned out.  I have however started doing my wash and putting away clothes and it made me realize something: I desperately need to have a yard sale of my own.

This picture was taken before the worst of the explosion, and it still looks pretty bad.  There is not physically enough room in my life for all the “stuff” that I own, and so it looks like I’m about to have to practice what I’ve been preaching about for these past few months.  And I plan to document the whole process here.  Since I’m one of those overly sentimental people who can’t usually give or throw anything away, so this should be a particularly fun brand of torture to write about… 

Please excuse the lack of content lately. FINALS ARE EATING MY SOUL! However, my friend made this video the other weekend so I figured I’d share it.  Enjoy!

No way did this family have any girl children.  No way.  

vicesandvirtues:

color concepts final

Aaaand, we’re back! We left off the story with Tyler and I enjoying a tasty (though admittedly phallic) treat.  I should also mention that we got delicious soft serve too!  Plus, the owner of the tiny spot, Vicky’s Tasty Treat, let us charge my phone inside before they were even open.  Awesomeness.  I thoroughly recommend checking this place out next time you’re craving a peanut butter covered frozen banana or a lotta rainbow sprinkles.  

The next place we hit up was a gaping garage with a fleet of lawn gnomes guarding the entrance.  Once we snuck past the questionable yard ornamentations, we realized that the home owners were invite people inside—this was an estate sale of sorts.  I talked to a woman named Jill who told me that the house and its contents had been her mother’s.  She and her sister had recently had to move their mom to an assisted living facility after it became clear that the woman was no longer capable of taking care of herself alone.  The only way that they could pay the monthly bills for her continued care however was by selling the mother’s house… and everything in it.  I’m actually extremely disappointed because I talked to Jill for about ten minutes, and she gave me a really touching interview about what it was like trying to sell the things that had meant so much to her mother, that had been part of her own childhood,  buuuuuut I didn’t use my recorder correctly and none of it saved.  Gah!  It was a very moving story though, and I could see the strain it was causing Jill manifested in the tired look in her eyes.  Tyler bought a really old radio that still worked that Jill said her father had used to listen to when he worked in the garage.  

After leaving Jill’s feeling a little blue, we stopped at the CNY Regional Farmer’s Market to pick up some supplies for a Grilled Cheese Competition I needed to hold the next day.   We wheeled a little, dealed a little, and set off for our last set of sales.  My phone was already almost dead again (silly Android).

 On the way to our target sale, we ran into a surprise small one with a giant sign.  The man running it said that he had felt the need to do some spring cleaning, and had finally decided to sell some of his old action figures.  He had a whole board of them neatly organized and hanging next to their names—it was clear that he used to be a fanatic collector.  He was just sick of them uselessly taking up room though, and figured he could get a pretty good sum for the set, either at the sale, or, failing that, later on Ebay. 

Tyler bought a slick looking tie for a dollar, and I couldn’t resist feeding my inner hipster by purchasing a Mason jar for a quarter. 

When we got to our next sale, we were delighted to find another bonus right down the street.  At the first, Tyler found a desk-and-chair set for only five bucks—perfect for his unfurnished house next year.  While he was weighing the pro’s and con’s of that particular purchase, I found a big box full of old notebooks.  At first, they all looked completely blank, and I considering buying one to help sustain my out-of-control list making addiction.  However, when I flipped one open, I discovered that it wasn’t quite as blank as it at first seemed.  

The notes were scrawled on the folder dividers between subjects.  At first, I couldn’t help but shake my head at the incorrect spelling of “illest,” but then I realized that neither spelling is actually a real word sooo…

I kept wishing that the notebooks held more than just a few hurriedly jotted notes.  I’m the kind of person that would nearly explode with excitement if I ever found a full diary at a yard sale.  Call it nosiness; I prefer curiosity.  Aren’t journalists ‘sposed to always want to know everything about everything?

The darling man holding the sale was newly retired, and he said that no long working had brought him plenty of extra time to sort through all the old stuff that he and his wife didn’t need around anymore, especially with their kids all grown up.  I wish I had taken a picture of the garage he was perched in.  It was completely decked out in model cars, not for sale, and personified “man cave” perfectly.  

After squeezing Tyler’s table into the car (“It’s just too good a deal!”), we hit up two pretty lackluster sales.  I did talk to an interesting man selling two cherry dressers who was about to move back home to Turkey though.  I got his email address, and plan to get in touch next semester when I’m living in Istanbul.  While Tyler was on the phone, I asked the owner of the other yard sale for verbal directions to get to one last spot we wanted to hit up.  Unfortunately, my penmanship proved too hard to decipher, and after puzzling for five minutes over the second to last line I’d hurriedly wrote, we decided to call it a day.  

Overall, I’d say we scored pretty well: several trinkets and a few good stories on a beautiful sunny day.  Yard Sailing = Success!

So, thanks to the End of School’s frenzied approach, I ended up being too frazzled this week to write about any of my yard sailing experiences like I had planned.  However, THE TIME FOR SHARING IS NOW!  Let me regale you with some stories:

With the sun shining and the sky a bright, cornflower blue, my friend Tyler and I set out for a day of adventures!  I had made a list of all the yard sales that I’d found on Craigslist that morning that were reasonably close by—20 total.  Making a list beforehand: wise.  Failing to make sure that my phone (aka GPS) was fully charged beforehand: not so wise. 

Unfortunately, good ol’ Dirty Harriet has been having some troubles a la loud rattling noises when drivin above 55 mph lately sooooo we weren’t getting anywhere fast.  The first sale that we eventually arrived at though had such a beautifully garbled selection of stuff I would have said that the family was selling everything but the kitchen sink EXCEPT that they were, in fact, selling the kitchen sink.  Badum-chkkkk.

Apparently, setting up the sale and slapping price stickers onto everything had taken the couple almost two days of hard work.  I couldn’t resist buying a small, space-y tin because it was only 25 cents and rull cute. 

At this point, the Android was already almost dead, so we asked the couple running the sale for verbal directions to our next spot.  On our way there, we found a surprise sale.  The man running it told us about how he works in landscaping so spends his workless winter months going to storage auctions and accumulating stuff to sell in the spring.  Due to living a cable-less existence, I’ve never seen Storage Wars or any show with a similar premise, but he confessed that he was a fan. 

Coolest thing at the sale: this lighter that’s disguised as a car!  Yup, flames used to shoot out that hole in the front.  Not the kind of lighter you carry around in your pocket. 

We flipped through some old records and I ended up buying a necklace for a dollar.  The man gave us a heads up that on Mother’s Day weekend the Village of Liverpool, where we were, was going to turn into Yard Sale Paradise.  He would have double the amount of stuff to rummage through for that community-wide sale extravaganza.  Can’t wait!  

When we made it to our original destination we discovered that the little neighborhood actually had three other sales going on besides the one that we had on the list.  At the first one, we met a girl named KC who told us that she was hosting her sale because she would be moving from Upstate New York to Washington at the end of May.  

Mostly she was selling old toys she’d scrounged out of her attic, basement, and garage. “I didn’t think that I would be so sad getting rid of old toys,” she said.  ”But now, today, people are taking them, and I can see their kids, and I’m like a really bossy little kid today in my head.  Thinking like ‘You’re not going to play with that right!  GIve it back!’”

I’ve never had a garage sale of my own (yet), but I imagine that that would be my reaction to the sale of every single thing.  ”There’s no way that that person is going to appreciate that chipped teacup as much as she should!”

KC also told us that even though she had posted signs saying the sale started at 10, she had already made $50 by 9:15 a.m.  Not bad.  Since Tyler and I have both outgrown plastic pet shops and Barney movies, we didn’t make any purchases at that particular sale.  

I feel like this post is getting a bit long, so I’ll make an executive decision and chop it into two pieces.  More tomorrow!  Purrfect place to stop really though because the next thing that Tyler and I did was take a break for some tasty treats…

“Banana stick!  Banana stick!  The bestest thing you ever did lick!”

…I included this as the least tasteless photo taken with the banana stick…