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Friday, May 6, 2016

Sidewalk sales still an addiction

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

It's time I come clean and admit I have an addiction. Some people are addicted to booze, drugs and gambling (there are lots of addictions). Folks, mine is garage sales.

As you know, we are in the process of trying to sell our house, which means that for the past few months I have been cleaning out closets, rooms, drawers, every place I can think of to begin downsizing, so that if we ever do sell our house, it won't be such a big job at the last minute.

Well ... it wasn't my fault that this past weekend was Pittsville's fall all-city garage sale, and my good intentions went right out the window.

I told Bob that a perfect weekend (weather-wise) was predicted and I needed to get out and see people and just breathe in that lovely fall air. You get the picture.

The big day was Saturday, but Friday and Sunday were also included. I decided to go on Friday and possibly on Saturday. Who am I kiddin'? I was already thinking about extending my time to both days.

Early Friday morning I told Bob that he was on his own. I did fix him some porridge for breakfast.

I had my jeans pocket full of one dollar bills and a slug of quarters, just in case I might (the key word here is might) see some little trinket that I couldn't live without.

Bob had already given me his little speech that I was just to look but not buy. Some of the things that were acceptable to purchase were books for me and the grandkids and also school clothes for the grandkids.

I also kept my eyes open for stuffed animals for the patients at Bethel Nursing Home. They play bingo and love stuffed animals.

I was too excited to eat much breakfast, just some toast and peanut butter and coffee.

I was going to be way ahead of the game, because Saturday, being the big day when everyone and his dog would be there, on Friday the traffic wasn't too bad at all, and I was getting first choice.

I thought I had pretty good control. I only bought eight "Goose Bump" books for the grandkids and five books for me. I always keep my eyes open for my two favorite authors, Nicholas Sparks and Richard Paul Evans. I really lucked out; I found three Nicholas Sparks that I hadn't read and three or four other books.

I also found three huge stuffed animals for Bethel and a fancy bar of soap for me.

By the time I got home at noon I had quite a few sacks of things that I just couldn't do without. Bob rolled his eyes and gave me a very menacing look and was just ready to chew me out when I began explaining what each thing was for and for whom. He very begrudgingly said, "Well, OK," but just to look on Saturday.

Well ... I had good intentions of "just lookin," but those intentions fell by the wayside as soon as I hit my first garage sale on Saturday morning.

The historical society was selling "brats" and chicken sandwiches, coffee and pop and homemade cookies. So I told Bob I would meet him there at noon for a brat and coffee.

By 10:30 a.m. I was ready for coffee and a cookie and to rest my "tootsies." I had made a purchase that I knew was going to get me in trouble as soon as Bob found out.

So, I told the gals there at the historical society to please not mention my purchase. It was actually two lovely wall pictures about 12" x 18". They are sidewalk cafes in Italy. Absolutely stunning.

Also bought more books and a tablecloth, plus several very minute items.

I shopped for another hour, and then it was time to head back for that brat and coffee.

I hadn't been there more than five minutes when Bob arrived. We had a nice lunch, my secret still a secret.

Much to my sorrow, it was time to bring my garage sale shopping to an end 'til next year. When we got home I brought everything in the house, except the pictures which I would bring in at a more opportune time.

Just how dumb can this ole grandma be? Did I really think I could hang them without him noticing?

Hard to believe, but they have been hanging on the kitchen wall for two days now, and he hasn't noticed them yet.

I will keep you all posted.

Marilyn Miller
The Old Grey Mare