Now, if your garage is like 99% of the garages we come across yardsaling, there are certain items in there that are not for sale. Many times today we were thwarted in our attempts to buy some cool item like an antique chair or cabinet, only to be told emphatically it was NFS. Here is a display of how to proclaim NFS without having to repeat yourself 100 times in one morning:
Here is the village of Albers, replete with various farming equipment. And when I say "farming equipment", I don't mean some mansy-pansy caterpillar used once to haul tree limbs away. No, sir, I mean manly, heavy-duty combine-type equipment, used to till actual farms, that pollute heady amounts of carbon dioxide in the air: these are tractors, people.
When you yardsale in a farming community, you run across farm-related items, the most basic and ovious, of course, being food. I wasn't in the mood for raw potatoes at 7am, but you have to admire the farminess of these people:
As it has been posted widely before, I am insultingly cheap. Nancy doesn't like to bargain like I do; in fact, she often pays more than asking price to 1. make up for my miserliness, and 2. she thinks people undervalue their merchandise, and 3. she has a generous and kind nature. Here she is, captured on camera, during the rare act of her wheeling and dealing on a candalier:
Readers, it was a tiring, fun day. We also went to the cities of Lebanon and O'Fallon after Albers. However, as any good yardsaler knows, the good stuff is taken by 8am, so by the time we got to the other places, we couldn't spare much enthusiasm for what was left.
I forget what sales are next week; today was so overwhelming with sale after sale of city-wide treasure-hunting, that I dare not look towards next week until I have completely recovered from this one, which may take a few days.
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