Sat. 3/27

Sometimes yard sales are just sad.

This week I hit three.

The first was near Memorial hospital. The proprietor was a 60-something guy with some longish hair slicked back with 1950s hair product, wearing a black leather bomber. He kept repeating, "It's just stuff, Man. It's just stuff, Man." Like he was trying to convince himself that all the crap laid out on his driveway was "just stuff" and not the evidence of his wasted life. I took a picture but had to take it secretly from my car. I won't even post it because it was so sad. I bought the world's longest scissors and a really old stapler. One dollar each.

Next I hit a sale on Lebanon which was mostly a mom and her 12 year old daughter selling all the stuff they don't want anymore and probably shouldn't have bought in the first place. I don't think I bought a single thing. This is saying something because I can usually find something to buy at EVERY sale I attend.

Finally, I went to the school rummage sale Laura mentioned in the previous post. There was no signage that I could see. I only knew it was a rummage sale because Laura called me. It was well-staffed but poorly supplied. There was just not enough stuff. It looked like 2 families hauled their crap to the school gym and spread it out thin to make it look like a rummage sale. A sad statement about the population that supports this particular school. The highlight was the extensive Danielle Steele hardback collection. Again, I found not one thing to purchase. Props to the ladies who showed up to staff it. They were over-prepared.

Next week has GOT to be better. Tune in...

Nancy

Samantha returns!

Alas, no pictures of this weekend's yard sales. Samantha and I had three little boys to constantly corral and keep safe from running in the street, so there really weren't any opportunities. Nancy was by herself, skivving when she could, in between running various children herself to activities.
So Samantha and I got started around 7:30 in her trusty Prius (no braking issues for us!), thereby demonstrating not only how environmentally-friendly yard saling can be (the ultimate in reusing!), but also how carbon-less footprinting we were! Excellent!
Our first stop was a school rummage sale, for which we had high hopes, and I did purchase a remarkable $2.00 jacket (so fuzzy! so furry!), but not much else. Signage was not proper. They even had a marquee with NO YARD SALE SIGN. Whatever is a marquee for, people? On to the next......
We skiived to THE sale of the day, in an alley off Gilbert Ln in Fairview Heights. The proprieteresses (I am quite sure that is not even a word) had some really wonderful kids' and women's clothing, and Samantha and I spent a good chunk of our morning happily digging for treasures. I had my 7 and 5 year old boys with me, and Sam had her almost 2 year old. We scored 4 jackets for boys, 2 for us, and countless boys' shirts and women's shirts. The kids truly enjoy yard saling if they 1. have company in the form of each other, 2. get toys from yard sales, 3. get to eat regularly, and 4. get to use a potty on demand. I enjoy sharing something I love with my boys; it is a fun activity for us to share, in a different context than just going grocery shopping. They choose to come with me (they have the option of staying at home), and we discuss things like map reading, bargain hunting, and how to decide what to spend their money on. They get to see me in a different light, doing something I really enjoy rather than doing dishes. It is a win-win!
Our next stop was Church St./Douglas Ave., in which I purchased markers, a great playground bouncy ball, and Samantha found an excellent fruit basket for kids, with the fruit made in Italy. Sam is consumer-conscious and doesn't like to purchase items made in China, which was fun for my boys to try to find a truck not made in China for Sam's son.
We passed by a sale I had been to the previous day, which I was not impressed with, so on we sped by, to get to the 10am egg hunt at school. We missed many, many sales yesterday, but alas, duty calls, and we had other engagements.
Sam is leaving again, so it may be just me on tap for next weekend, since I believe Nan is gone as well. I will try to remember to break out the trusty camera to enliven my posts!

Home curing of meat, made easy!

I lust after Nancy's perfect chair. Here is an estate sale chair that I paid $15 for a few months ago that I am contemplating trading for it, but I do really like it (the blue one) (also the orange one).
Nancy is a very generous, kind person and has given me other things I have lusted after in her house; a wonderful old wooden magazine holder/box and the white comforter that you see snippets of under the book in the photos below.





I didn't do as well as Nancy today. At The Cookie House, I purchased a used wheelbarrow for my dear husband, who doesn't complain when I go out for hours every Saturday, leaving him alone with the children. It was only $5. I didn't take a picture of it. You know what a wheelbarrow looks like. Especially a used one.
My excellent find of the day was a book of home-butchering and curing. Nancy encouraged me to purachse it for 25 cents. Since I can't crop/rotate/do anything with photos, you'll have to turn your monitor to see how to slice open the belly of a hog. Because so many of you partake of home butchering. The funny thing is in the preface of the book, the authors clearly state that millions of Americans butcher at home. The publishing date is 1941. Perhpas millions did then.


Here you have Mrs. Happy Homemaker making good sausage. Mmmm mmmm.

Here you have a better picture of how to string up a hog and slice off the head.

The front of the book.

A word about the stuffed animal giving birth: this was easily the funniest thing I 'd seen all day. If you are at all reluctant about telling your kids about the facts of life, why, here you have the perfect prop. Just sit down with this fuzzy creature and say, "Here, kids, see, babies are made this way!" And pull out 3 identically happy puppies out of a smiling mama dog, and bam! talk's all over! Whew! You're done! That was easy and quick!

The Perfect Chair and Mothers&More

Today was possibly the BEST yardsale day EVER! I am still laughing so hard... almost too hard to write.

We started late. My two biggest boys were picked up for transport to a math competition at 7:40. As their mom, I felt compelled to stay in the house until they departed. As it was an academic competition, I felt the need to provide them with a nutritious breakfast. Henry ate two pouches of Quaker Maple and Brown Sugar oatmeal and Louie ate cheesecake leftover from last night's post-junior-high-dance event at Denny's.

With the Big Boys out of our hair we could start our day of yardsale adventure!

JoJo had a sleep over last night so we were yardsaling with some extra kids: Kelcey and Addie. Kelcey was my charge until 12:30 because her mom worked at Aldi until noon. Addie had to be home at 9am so she could drive to Peoria or something. We also had Oscar (6) and Donny (10). That's 5 kids plus me. Not ideal, I know. I anticipated a few extra expenses in order to keep them in line.

I started the morning with about $45 in cash. I knew I'd need to hit an ATM before I got rolling because something perfectly wonderful and expensive could pop up on any driveway, in any church basement, in any yard in the Metro East area. We live at 95th. The first sale on my list was at 81st. The ATM is at 77th. No problem.

Except there WAS a problem. 81st is one of those streets that doesn't reach all the way to Main. You are driving along, you see 82nd. That's not it. You slow down and wait for the next one. The next one is 80th. What the hell happened to 81st?! I turned on 80th, jogged left on a side street, when I announced to the crowd: "Hey! Jacob lives on this street!" Donny replies: "Yeah. But he's moving."

Well what do you do when you move? You have a yardsale!

Just as we pull up to the address this conversation is happening. I see Jacob's sister sitting on the driveway with her friend, Jessica. We honk enthusiastically and screech to a halt at the curb.

Since it's still only 8am they have plenty of great stuff. I got a perfect little camera bag for yardsaling. The kids scored BIG with a bunch of Build-A-Bear outfits for $1.50 each and a few stuffed animals who can wear the outfits. Donny and Oscar didn't find anything special which explains their nasty facial expressions.

We stopped, zippedy-quick, at an ATM on the way to our next sale: the church at Royal Heights Rd. and 161. Is this First Presbyterian? I'm not sure. A church rummage sale is hit-or-miss. Blessed Sacrament's sale every June is SPECTACULAR but many are sad, small, pitiful affairs which offer no quality merchandise.

First Presbyterian was rockin'! It was only 8:15 as we got out of our car. Already, shoppers were strutting vainly back to their vehicles with their purchases. One woman lugged a tote laden with choice clothing. One man hauled a gigantic ceramic turkey and God knows what-all.

"Run, Kids, run!" I shouted.

As we entered the gymnasium, the kids scattered. It's a church, right? So they are safe. I wandered without intent, knowing my yardsale dollars would be spent on someone else's discarded toys. Oscar found a cool, metal lock-box and a pair of plastic rackets. Addie and Kelcey found stuffed animals without which they could not live. Donny wandered for a while, assuming there was nothing of interest in the entire gym. To his great surprise, he found these excellent magician/clown props:

Every time I look at these things I start to laugh. He is already such a comedian and has been taking magic lessons... he even has a kit for making balloon animals. All he needed was this hat/tie combo for his professional magic/comedian act. Stay tuned to Comedy Central. Donny Holm is on the rise!

JoJo. She too found some stuffed animals. They were white and fluffy and had big, glassy eyes. They were as cute as any stuffed animals you have ever encountered.

But one was different. It was a maternal stuffed animal. It was (and is) a stuffed animal that gives birth to baby stuffed animals through its little, stuffed animal vagina.

Here is JoJo holding the mother:

And here is the stuffed mother giving birth in the back seat of my car:

Unbelievable. I know.

The only thing MORE unbelievable than a stuffed animal vagina is the phenomenally retro chair I found as we waited in line to check out.

The check-out line was long: a solid 25 customers deep. Along the way there was nothing but knick knacks. Country oak mug holders, angel planters, and a few sarcastic coffee mugs lined our path to the registers.

But then I saw it. The most orange, vinyl, retro chair of all time. On it were a velour sweatshirt and a dime store necklace. Could it have been found already? Did some other shopper claim it by draping her accessories upon its shiny plastic seat? I inquired of the shoppers around me: "IS this yours?", "Do you think anyone has claimed this?"

"Look, " they said, "the price tag is still on it. Just take off the price sticker and buy it!"

Ten dollars. The most excellent orange, vinyl, retro chair of all time was only ten dollars. This could have easily been a favorite seat in the Brady Bunch household. Undoubtedly, it was sitting in a very-old-lady's basement for a very-long-time.

My grand total at the First Presyterian check-out was $17. Seventeen dollars for a wealth of stuffed animals and the world's most perfect orange, vinyl, retro chair. I threw in an extra dollar to make it eighteen. I felt so lucky. Here is the strong and gentlemanly clerk carrying The Perfect Chair to my car:

Remember, I was shopping with five kids. Now we had The Perfect Chair. It was crowded. Here's how we handled the logistics:

Oscar sat in the Way Back with The Chair.

Moving on...

From the church we had to race to Adie's house. She was due home at 9am, as you recall. Due to my expert driving and shopping skills, we pulled into her driveway at precisely 8:59, packed up her new stuffed animals in a reusable Target tote, and got her in the house by 9:00.

Off to Lebanon Ave.

Except I went to Lebanon Rd.

Ave. is different from Rd., as you might imagine. I lost a few minutes on this mistake, but we soon arrived at Whiteside School where the local chapter of Mothers and More was having a yard sale. This was very well publicized, well marked, well staffed, and well run. I understand the woman to thank is Joanie (or maybe Jodie?) There were at least ten signs directing me from the major thoroughfare to the gymnasium. An efficient system of checks and tallies ensured proper payment. The merchandise was top quality, clean, and well-organized. They enhanced their profits with a small $1 donation at the door. The workers all wore red and were easily identifiable. They were polite and enthusiastic. Here they are:

Only two things kept this from being the PERFECT sale. First, there were no baked goods. Ladies, we get up early to shop your sale, we need an opportunity for sugary sustenance. Second, while I admire your aggressive pricing (an understandable vehicle for top-dollar earnings), you assume a higher level of responsibility for quality when you price so high. The "buyer beware" ethic of most yardsales comes into question when prices are closer to retail. My boy, Donny, was excited to buy the Turbo Fill Blaster, a sprinkler/squirt-gun combo, a weapon that offered exquisite brother-blasting power. It was $9.50, a steep price for a rummage sale, but worth it for total big-brother domination. Guess what? The Turbo Fill Blaster is a dud. It doesn't fill, doesn't blast, and does nothing I would describe as "turbo". Donny had faith in the Mothers and More infrastructure and found himself out $9.50, almost a dollar for each year of his age. (If one of you lovely M&M ladies reads this blog it would be very good PR if you would comment and let Donny know how he can recoup his $9.50.)

The well-organized Mothers and More directed us to the MOPS (Mothers of Pre-Schollers) sale at a different church nearby. This is known to those of us who attended college before having children as "cross-marketing" or something. The MOPS sale was not as professional but they had a bake-sale. I found a few wonderful toddler dresses for my little friend, Eleanor, whose 3rd birthday is next week. She likes all things pink and purple and appreciates cheap, previously-worn clothing above all. Also, shoes. She has a shoe fetish. And she has crazy red hair and growls like a troll. And she is unusually small for her age. I'd be surprised if she has reached 20 pounds yet. I think maybe she is half elf, her mother having had some sort of summertime affair at the north pole or something.

Then the kids were hungry so we went to Burger King. Have you been to the newly remodeled Burger King by St Clair Mall? It is less crappy than it used to be and the service is less horrible. My chicken sandwich minus mayo was delicious and my fries were hot and crisp. The ladies' bathroom was clean. There was a free-whopper-offer on the back of my receipt. I called an 800 number, answers questions for five minutes, and learned the code which will earn me a free Whopper next time I go to BK and order a drink and fries. Don't you pretty much get the sandwich free when you buy a drink and fries at cost but call it a "value meal"? Whatever. I was in a thrifty state of mind so I took the survey.

On the way home, after picking up Eleanor's sister at high school (a commitment I forgot I had made) we passed a local business of Belleville's West End, The Cookie House, which has recently gone out of business. They had a sign out front, a sign which used to advertise the day's specials. Today it says, "GARAGE SALE".

Skiv!! (Please refer to previous posts for a definition of "skiv".)

The Cookie House lady, Jeannie, is selling everything she used for her business: dishes, cake plates, tables, chairs, industrial oven, ribbon, shelves... also everything she used for the upkeep of this little house-turned-restaurant: wheelbarrow, lawn mower, etc. Here is Laura testing out the lawnmower:

It didn't work that well, actually. At forty bucks it would be a deal only if you or your husband are SUPER strong.

At The Cookie House I bought some bowls and plates. The bowls are flat-bottomed and perfectly sized for breakfast cereal. The plates are bean-shaped and are the perfect banana holder to compliment a bowl of cereal. Or sandwich and soup if it is lunchtime. Or pasta and bread if it is dinner. Get it? But the greatest thing I found at The Cookie House is this:

It is one of those things that bakers put the baked cookies on after they come out of the industrial oven. Or at Ikea, the rack where you place your dirty tray. I bought the frame and ten trays for $120. My plan, which you can view in action on this website in a few days, is to use it to organize shoes in my coat closet. When I bought it it was still covered in cookie crumbs and frosting. Donny scrubbed it down for me in the cold. He was very depressed about the Un-Turbo Fill Un-Blaster, and he wanted to earn back the money he had wasted. He did a fine job and as soon as I'm done blogging I will lug this thing in the house and start organizing our family's footwear.

I must thank the Cookie Lady's boys who helped me load my car.

My Perfect Chair was taking up all of the cargo space and I had to make two trips. Laura, who was with us today and will undoubtedly blog about her own purchases, helpfully took a photo of my butt.

Apparently I should be exercising instead of yardsaling. Priorities, People!

Before I go I want to offer a few more photos of The Perfect Chair:

Until next week, Readers!

Nancy

Anxiety

I'm a little bit afraid.

I'm afraid of Saturday.

While I look forward to weekly yardsale day like a kid at Christmastime, I'm afraid of this upcoming yardsale day.

I'm afraid of Daughter-of-Lady-Who-Bought-the-Crock.

She knows I yardsale aggressively. She knows my Big Van-O-Dreams. She has seen my picture. And she is very angry with me.

This is making me rethink my sassy way of blogging, just trying to get a laugh.

I will make enemies long before I get famous.

I am at a crucial point in my blogging career: Do I play it safe, trying not to offend anyone? Or do I carry on, blogging with integrity, making light of this crazy hobby and all of us who participate in it?

today's sale, continued

Here are the excellent paper towel dispensers and the proprieteress.



Here is a view from inside the van o' dreams.

Here are the rhino horns.

Here is the helpful man carrying out the treasures from the Millstadt sale.

Yard sale remorse

It was a wonderful day. A little chilly, so the indoor sales were a big hit. I maintain a mint could be made having indoor yard sales throughout the winter months in cold climates. The indoor places were jammed. Below, at the Millstadt sale, is the largest wrestling DVD collection I have ever seen. The proprieter of this sale informed me if I took a picture of him, I would have to pay him. Being the cheap miser I am, I elected to only photograph the amazing wrestling DVDs.



Below is the man who was selling the animals parts.

More animal parts.

Nancy driving the big van o' dreams.

What a beautiful family!

I have some more pictures to post, which I will soon.
But I need to discuss yard sale remorse, which is the title of this post. Remember Nancy's excellent use of the industrial paper towel dispenser? I, too, picked one of these babies up and contemplated buying it, but decided not to. And now I am regretting that decision, because, really, it is so industrial and awesome. So let this be a lesson, dear reader, if an item piques your interest and it is only $2.00, buy it.

Excellent post, Nancy.

Milstadt... Who Knew?!

Up at 6:15 today. No shower. Just a splash of water on the face, some deodorant reinforcement, and a cup of coffee.

Mission: Yardsale Adventure!

Agents: Nancy and Laura (Samantha is in Qatar having sex with her husband who is deployed for six months.)

Assistants: JoJo, Addie, Donny, Louie, and Gramma Betty.

Vehicle: Nancy's Big Van-O-Dreams.

Navigator: Laura.

Destinations: First Christian Church, Milstadt Middle School, MWR Estate Sale.

First Christian Church was our first stop this morning. They opened at 7. We were a few minutes late and distraught to see people already leaving, their arms full of boxes overflowing with merchandise. At the door they had posted a sign: "Everything 25 cents, unless marked." Well, hot damn! We entered the gym and scattered. JoJo and Addie went straight to the toys. They sniffed out all the usual stuff 8 year old girls need: purses made of denim, stuffed animals, anything with an American Girl logo. Louie found some cool USAF airplane models. Donny found a Razor scooter for $5 and assured me that all the scooters at our house are damaged or somehow inferior to this one which is covered in stripes of blue and grey duct tape.

FCC had no bake sale. Points off for that. We were hungry already. But I heard live music, some electric guitar, played by a shopper as he inspected the merchandise. Extra points for live music and enthusiastic shoppers!

At the last minute, as we were checking out, we saw a woman buying an old, hefty stoneware crock. Twenty-five cents! Laura offered her fifty cents. Betty quickly countered with one dollar. She said, "No! I need to use it for my cigarette butts!" Betty chased her to her car where she offer ten bucks cash, on the spot, for the coveted crock. The shrewd shopper refused. Then our adversary reveled that she had just discovered the crock was marked! It was priced at ten dollars. She peeled out of the parking lot, having just short-changed the church $9.75. God is watching, Crock Lady. God is watching.

(Originally there was a cute picture of the Crock Lady here but her daughter got very angry at me and demanded that I remove the photo. Please read her comment and chime in with your own. Did you, Blog Reader, get the joke about the Crock Lady or did you think I was really shaming her and threatening God's vengeance on her? I assure you, she was a lovely person. She did not peel out. That was hyperbole on my part, an exaggeration used to make the description funnier. And I'm sure she had a name... but I don't know it and if I did I would ensure her anonymity by not using it, so I thought Crock Lady was a funny nickname. And I do not believe that God was watching her or that he really gives a hoot if she paid 25cents or 25 dollars for the crock. I'm sure he has bigger things to worry about, like keeping people safe in Iraq and stuff. I apologize for hurting the feelings of The-Lady-Who-Bought-the-Crock and for angering her daughter. Her daughter is obviously very loyal and loving to defend her mother so vehemently. Moving on.)


Milstadt... Holy Cow! We have never driven so far for a yard sale. Having just experienced the 25cent sale at FCC we were expecting low-cost bargains. But what a surprise! This Milstadt sale was the Cadillac of sales! Each 3x6 table was independently operated. The merchandise was hand-selected, choice, grade-A garage sale fare. There were even home party vendors: Party-Lite, Mary Kay, Pampered Chef, and some purse company I've never heard of. We barely knew how to conduct ourselves in such an up-scale environment.

The highlights:

• Man with the animal skins, rhino horns, arrowheads, and owl figurines who asked Laura if she was with PETA.
• Linda, Table 8, who sold me some lovely bedding which JoJo will use for sleepovers and gave me a free box and temporary storage.
• Cute guy who looked like the Smallville guy and reminded me of Zac Ephron. Gramma Betty bought his black jazz shoes which he had worn in his ACTUAL high school musical! (It should be noted that Gramma Betty, aka: Bubbles, has exceptionally large and beautiful feet. She wears a 12narrow. So high school boys' hand-me-downs are a real find. If the shoe fits, as they say.)

Thanks to the Milstadt crew who staffed a really delicious bake sale. It was my kids' breakfast.

Props to the guy who carried our stuff about a quarter mile to the van. He collects old gas pumps, restoring them, or art-ing them into something entirely different. If you have one to sell, please post a comment on this blog.

Finally, after a brief sidebar at a sad, cold little garage sale, we finished our morning at a classic MWR Estate Sale. Despite the disturbing sense of death which hovers over most estate sales and the pungent feline aroma of old people's houses, this was a fine shopping opportunity. We found some vintage (1964?) Boy Scout manuals, an old Labyrinth marble game, and some lucky horseshoes. Louie bought the world's tiniest playing cards for a quarter, Donny bought two boxes of poker chips for 4 bucks, and Betty bought a 10 pound dictionary for 75 cents.

Something from the estate sale which demands public recognition is the hair art. I have heard of this but never seen it in person. Apparently, in the old days, people weren't satisfied with bronzed baby shoes. Parents of growing children who wanted to preserve a tangible bit of their precious one's childhood would collect and save their child's hair. They would somehow weave and twist this stuff into artsy-looking shapes and decorations. Here is a framed piece, approximately 11x17, commemorating the childhood of these two little kids with the hair that fell out of their heads during their childhoods. It truly left me speechless.

Here is a treasure from the Milstadt sale. It is a white, metal, enameled paper towel dispenser you might find in an institution's restroom. I have hung it in my kitchen, upside down from it's original orientation, and am filling it with plastic grocery bags. These bags are now at-the-ready for dog walking doodie-duty. The editors at Real Simple can contact me via this blog.

Until next week, this is Nancy, your YardSale Adventures correspondent, signing off.

Opening Day - Yard Sale Season 2010

Oh. My. God.

I skivved yesterday for the first time this year! Followers will recall the meaning of "skiv".

to skiv: (v) to veer wildly off one's intended course in response to a sign declaring "Yard Sale", posted boldly on a major thoroughfare, and to follow said signage until one arrives at the unanticipated destination at which large quantities of cheap treasures are available for purchase.

Yesterday I had lots of kids to shuttle about the Metro East area. Henry needed glasses delivered to his bowling match in Belleville. Donny needed to buy a fake thumb at the magic shop in Lebanon. Louie needed to be deposited at a distant middle school for a volleyball tournament in Shiloh.

I was driving along Green Mount Road (one of the few Metro East roads that runs due north/south, a beacon for yardsalers!) when we saw a small, white sign declaring "Yard Sale!"

Hot damn.

We veered wildly off course. As it is early in the yardsaling season, we found the site easily. It was the only sale in this neighborhood of recently built homes. We parked at the curb and approached the garage. Two boys were fighting in the side-yard with giant inflated boxing gloves. These gloves were not-for-sale but were a fine distraction for a few of the kids I had dragged along on the skiv.

The treasure of the day? A pair of Frye leather slip-ons, size 7, for only $2, which will not fit me but were so awesome I had to buy them. Susan will enjoy them on her small feet.

JoJo found some good tops and dresses for a few bucks. I got a stack of Pokemon activity books for Oscar. Louie got a nerf-type weapon without any ammunition.

I was reminded how much I LOVE to yardsale -- skivving to an unanticipated location and happening upon some eclectic merchandise I can't live without.

For the 2010 season I vow to bring my camera, fully charged, to every yardsaling adventure, and to print business cards with this blogspot address so we can get more followers!