The Yardsalers Experience Fame

It was a big day today, Readers. We were recognized as "Those Blogger Girls" for the first time. As in, "Aren't you those blogger girls?" It was at the local, annual sale where last year we found a stuffed beaver for $200. The beaver was gone but our reputation was not.

Freakin' A! This is the beginning of something big!

As Laura said, the morning started without much hope. There was really a lot of rain. And thunder. And lightning. The Van-o-Dreams actually hydroplaned a couple of times on the highway. Here is a photo I took while I should have been driving safely:

Soulard was a total bust. Total. But dang the houses are pretty! PLEASE, SOULARD, TRY AGAIN NEXT WEEK!! We will come! I will spend hundreds of dollars! Laura will spend $6!

We left Soulard and headed to Mascoutah. (Soulard is 20 minutes west of our homes. Mascoutah is 20 minutes east.) We had been on the road for over an hour and had yet to lay a finger on one single rusty/crappy/broken/used object that was for sale. So when we finally arrived at this sad, little sale we were freakin' ecstatic!

It was seriously pitiful. Normally we wouldn't have even stopped. But we were so desperate for a sale we trudged through the rain to inspect the lady's 8 measly items. I think I spent 50 cents for a weird dress I don't like and that won't fit me.

But, thanks-be-to-god, things picked up and we found some more sales. The Mascoutans have garages, you see, so rain will not deter them from selling their fine wares!

After all that time on the road, over and hour going to Soulard then another 30 minutes searching for the rare open garage, I had to pee really bad! Now, you must know, it is very bad form to ask to use the bathroom at the home of a yardsaler. Maybe if you have a small child with you it is permissable, but in that case you should apologize a number of times, roll your eyes at the limited volume of the youthful bladder, and pretend you aren't going to go pee immediately after the kid relives herself. But did I ever have to GO! So when we arrived at the sale below I threw all propriety to the wind and begged for a potty break. Reluctantly, the proprietess allowed me inside.

I wish I knew their names because they deserve high praise for their potty-hospitality (hos-potty-tality?) I will call them Man-who-made-Excellent-Washer-Games, Lady-with-a-Very-Purple-Coat, and Girl-who-lives-in-a-Very-Old-House because those are the things I remember most about them. Thank you, MWMEWG, LWAVPC, and GWLIAVOH. I might have exploded had it not been for your kindness.

Do you collect anything, Reader? Coffee mugs? Dolls? Bunny figurines? If so, you understand the joy of the hunt, the satisfaction of amassing a large collection of one thing. I will introduce you to a man (well, just his collection, really, because he was out collecting this morning as we were admiring his work) who collects Hotwheels. His two-car garage is a shrine to Hotwheels. Apparently the Hotwheels guys release new cars each year. This Mascoutan man collects them ALL. Here they are:

What I appreciate most about this guy is his commitment. He made all these display racks himself. He hung unpackaged, individual cars on tiny little nails around the window. He has a custom little shelf for cars. This guy is an organizational savant. My hat is off to you, Mister Hotwheel Man.

We finally found Old Town Mascoutah. It was just what we wanted. Here's the truth: suburban developments are fine but their stuff is the same from house to house to house. And it is all the same stuff I have already in my own house. We all get it from Target. Not until you get to the shabby, small, older parts of a town do you get any good junk. I'm just sayin'.

On Main St. in Mascoutah we found a tent sale hosted by a church group. Mascoutah Assembly of God maybe. I lost the paperwork. They were very sweet and generous. They had a food sale, like all self-respecting church sales will, but they were giving away food. To get an authentic Panera Bread Company bagel all you had to do was read John 3:16 or something. Excellent PR for the Assembly of God, right? Except bad news. The bagels were already a day old last Wednesday. A+ for generosity, D+ for taste. These are the well-intentioned ladies distributing the yucky bagels:

This sale was a big score for us, however. I bought this chalkboard. Guess how much it cost?:

Samantha bought four of these adorable chairs, handmade by a now deceased member of the Assembly's congregation:

Henry found this magnetic/dry-erase/grid board:

And most importantly, we met a new friend and champion: Uncle Mustache!

CHECK. HIM. OUT.

Henry urged me to take his picture but I was too shy at first. But the kind ladies of the Assembly encouraged me so I chased him down and asked if I could take his photo. He was happy to oblige me. Then he presented me with his business card:

That number is 618-806-5674 Folks!

Apparently his wife does not enjoy the crazy mustache so he incorporated the mustache as his "brand" so now he can never shave it! Brilliant marital strategy, Uncle Mustache! Plus, using "Uncle" makes you sound very friendly and trustworthy! According to his card, Uncle Mustache will gladly: paint, wallpaper, insulate, frame, poor concrete, roof, pressure wash, remove trees, replace windows, install drywall, weld, hang shelves, wire things, plumb, and install flooring. Here he is doing a bit of pro bono work on our chalkboard so we could fit it in the Van-O-Dreams:

We got a little short on time today for two reasons: 1. We pissed away an hour driving to Soulard, and 2. Henry and Sam had an appointment at the Apple store at the Galleria. We had to pass on this inviting thrift shop. We figured we could return on a regular day (not Sunday or Monday) and shop at our leisure.

Honorable mention goes to our last sale of the day, a repeat estate sale close to home, hosted by Phil and Mrs. Phil. Their uncle invented this clever use for Grandpa's walker after he kicked-the-bucket:

Demonstrating the walker/garbagecan is Angie, our guest yardsaler visiting from Florida.

Here is Phil selling Laura a metal paper towel dispenser which really floated her boat. If it were Tuesday I think Phil would have earned himself more than the $3 asking price! See the twinkle in her eye?

Tune in next week, Readers. Tell your friends about us. Click on "Follow This Blog". Fame is within our reach. We can smell it.