Too many kids, too much Aunt Jamima

They sucked the life out of me today.

I don't know if it was the incessant begging for QT, the squabbling over Nerf weaponry, or the half dozen plastic whistles, but somewhere around 8 AM I knew I was in trouble.

I yardsaled today with the 6th grade regulars: Donny-Devin-Bobby, plus JoJo and Oscar. They were as sweet and silly as usual. It wasn't their fault that I was crabby. It was all me. My head was not in the right place or something. I just couldn't appreciate their childish essence. Bottom line: I took a nice long nap this afternoon.

This was out first sale of the day. It made me squeal with delight so I photographed it for future study:

Let's analyze the scene:

• It is obviously early morning because the shadows are long.
• The sale has plenty of merchandise sprawled across the lawn.
• At first glance, my eye is drawn to the white chair...
• Then what looks like a book shelf...
• Some clothes,
• Toys,
• And a mysterious wicker circle!!

And the squealing begins!

Upon closer inspection, the sale was just as good as I had first thought. I bought a basket-full of items both practical and decorative. But, as usual, the best blog photos are of the stuff I did not buy. Like this wickedly frightening clown doll:

God. Just looking at that thing makes me want to go to church tomorrow.

The second stop on our bnd.com itinerary was a sale at 5400 North Belt West. It sounded like an industrial address to me so I approached with suspicion. Sure enough, this sale was held in the parking lot of a local oil company. The relationship between Vogt Oil Co. and yardsales? Even oil moguls have to clean out their basements! We met the Vogt clan, hawking wares in their parking lot. Brilliant use of real estate, Ladies!

Another unconventional yardsaling venue was this weird place on a service road called "Service Rd." in Swansea.

They rented out tables to individual sellers. Was it a benefit of some sort? I don't know. They had a decent bake sale, thank God.

The merchandise was wildly varied: used DVDs, WW2 artifacts, new-in-box jewelry, housewares, and the usual assortment of mom jeans. I snapped a photo of these "choice rabbit pelts" just before their owner asked if I was from PETA. (I think we've met this guy before!)

I was taken aback by this extensive collection of Aunt Jamima kitchen accessories.

Seriously.

What is the current PC view on Aunt Jamima and her bald husband the butler? Forget PC... these are just stupid looking. I think I can confidently make a blanket statement, right here on the YSA blog, that no self-respecting home owner should ever outfit her kitchen with so much of one kitschy motif. This Aunt Jamima offender is almost as bad as the crazy watermelon lady we met at one sale who had thousands of dollars worth of watermelon paraphernalia for sale. Apparently she had redecorated her house and watermelons were out. The lingering question: with what did she replace all those watermelons? I suspect it was black and white cows.

Of course, the Swansea Improvement Center (whatever it is) had owls for sale. Always there are the owls. They haunt me.

Thanks for reading. Tune in next week for the end-of-summer Labor Day Lollapalooza! Let's hope for sun and a child-free shopping experience.

Nancy

old ladies being stingy (by Laura)

Readers, I feel I must explain my title. No, I am not mean-spirited or youth-elitist. I don't belong to some secret society that ascribes to weird notions such as mandatory suicide after a certain age. For some reason, at two different yard sales today in this tiny town I temporarily call home, we encountered proprieteresses of the extremely cheap kind. And for some reason, these frail, aged ladies were eager to glean every drop of coin out of their weary salers. I found an old twin sheet at one and asked the owner what she wanted. She replied "a dollar". $1? For a well-used sheet?
Anyway, here are some excellent clothes my mom found at an upscale sale in the Ogles neighborhood (the most confusing, circuitous neighborhood ever). It was run by a husband and wife team, who were no-nonsense. I offered $6 for a large amount of brand name clothes and books and the husband said, "We'll take it." He was in a moving-merchandise kind of mood.



Here we have an excellently retro clock found at the previously expounded-upon stingy old lady sale. They wanted $3; I talked them down to $2.



Also at the old peoples' sale I purchased this retractable clothesline now proudly sinking under the extreme weight of one cotton dress (purchased at the upscale Ogles sale). I was very excited about this purchase, as I have had my eye on one on Amazon, but of course it it way too pricey for me at 10 dollars plus shipping. I don't think I thought clearly about the holding-up factor of wet clothes.

Here is a sideways picture of a Where's Waldo puzzle, which I thought for sure would be the find of the day for my boys. Shows how much I know. No one touched it till hours after I brought it home.

(And if you are an old lady reading this, I love you. I really, really do.)

Back on the Beat

Do you hear that sound? It is the sound of silence filling my house on a school day.

Ahhhh.

Without smelly, summer-breaking children hanging on my sweaty limbs I was able to yardsale this morning with adults! Saralee, our most faithful reader, and Angie, Laura's mom (a YSA veteran having joined us every time she comes into town from her home in Florida) joined me for a brief jaunt through Belleville.

The best sale of the day was on S. Park. It was so good we almost attended twice, approaching from two different directions. My favorite purchase was this hand made ceramic pot, modeled below by the artist herself.

Saralee was puzzled by my enthusiastic squealing today. She couldn't discern why some sales make me yelp with excitement while others simply evoke a gasp. After much discussion, we were unable to identify the components of a sale that make me squeal with delight. Is it presentation? Quantity? The presence of old furniture? There is no formula, Sara. Some sales just call out, making me screech to a halt, while others whimper as I coast on by.

Angie was distracted today. She couldn't appreciate the sales properly because Laura texted and called her every three minutes. I swear. Her phone just kept beeping and ringing.

Text: Did U go 2 ardmore?

Angie: She wants to know if we went to Ardmore!

Text: Go 2 7900 Main St.

Angie: She says we should go to 7900 Main Street!

Text: Find NEthing good?

Angie: She wants to know if we found anything good!

We had to ask Angie to ask Laura why she was yardsaling in absentia instead of attending to her "rigorous nursing program" at SLU. To this Laura answered, "Tell thm 2 mind thr own bizness!"

The adventure was brief but included laughter, erratic driving, and QT. And really, that's all we need, right?

Tune in tomorrow... Devin returns!

Nancy

Housewifery Part 2

Our loyal reader, Sara, sent me the list below. Sara has a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM) friend, Susan, whose husband asked "What do you do all day?" Rather than fly off the handle, Susan began compiling a list of everything that needs to be done in their household. She surveyed the kids and the husband so the list would be as comprehensive as possible. The result is the following SAHM job description. I think these duties apply to most middle class American families. Some are done by the working spouse, some by helpful children, but most fall on the home-making spouse. (I have deleted Susan's category called "Paid Work" and edited the "Volunteer Projects" to make the list more general.)

Finances – checking credit card receipts to bills, checking EOBs to medical bills, paying bills, making deposits at the bank, balancing the checkbooks, filing, making sure fun $ is paid out

Laundry – collecting, washing, drying, folding, putting away, minor mending, cycling in/out clothes of different sizes and/or seasons, ironing, hanging up

Dishes – washing dishes, drying dishes (mostly passive), washing pots & pans, putting away

Cooking – preparing lunch & feeding it to the kids, cleaning up after it, preparing dinner, setting the table, putting away leftovers, rinsing out dishes, clearing the table and the highchair.

Lawn Care – mowing the grass, edging the yard, pulling weeds, trimming the bushes/branches, taking yard waste to street on Mondays, mulching leaves/shoveling snow when appropriate, taking care of the garden

Shopping – keeping the refrigerator and pantry stocked with food, planning ahead for meals, purchasing and putting away household necessities (toiletries, cleaning supplies, lightbulbs, etc.), purchasing additional clothing when necessary, staying stocked with diapers/wipes

Cleaning – dusting, vacuuming, sweeping, mopping, scrubbing (toilet/bath/sinks/counters), changing sheets & making beds, picking up toys & books, re-organizing, detail cleaning, taking out trash (to garage & to street), emptying recycling bins

Auto Maintenance – fueling up, arranging oil changes & other maintenance, washing exterior, cleaning & vacuuming interior

Child Care – playing, teaching, refereeing, disciplining, comforting, reading to, putting down for naps, exercising, feeding snacks to, changing diapers, bathing, dressing, arranging playdates, taking to doctor/dentist/immunization appts, patching up boo-boos, cutting hair, trimming finger/toenails

Correspondence/Gifts – postcards, birth announcements, phone call follow-ups (business & pleasure), sending out photos or news to family when necessary, taking phone messages and passing them on, ensuring we have gifts for necessary occasions (bdays, xmas, baby, weddings, etc.)

Coordinating – keeping both adults (and sometimes the kids, too) aware of current schedule for the day/week, figuring out transportation for all parties involved, arranging babysitters where needed

Holiday Extras – additional baking, decorating, correspondence, events

Extra Personal Projects – Family Calendar, Family Photos, Family Dinners/Birthday Dinners, Recording Projects

Volunteer Projects – Church, School, Neighborhood

Here are the two conclusions I made after reading Susan's uncannily thorough accounting of the responsibilities of my life:

1. My life is sort of a drag.

2. Yardsaling makes it more fun.

Thank you, Sara and Susan, for your insight.

The Hierarchy of Shopping

American commerce has come a long way since the days of pilgrims and indians trading pelts for maize. Thanks to Alexander Hamilton, who did something good in the 1700s which I don't actually remember, we have a standard US currency for effectively trading goods and services.

In modern America we spend this currency in a variety of ways. Different laws and social mores apply to each different trade scenario. Each has its own lingo and social status. Economists call it commerce. I call it shopping.

1. Houses and Cars - The purchase of freakishly expensive things like houses and cars blows my mind. It's not even like spending money. It's more like selling your soul. All I know is that I wake up every morning under this roof and every month I pay the bank a hefty sum. I have a faint hope that someday I will wake up under this roof and find that I own it outright. We call the hunt for these items "House Shopping" and "Car Shopping" so I felt compelled to include them at the top of the shopping hierarchy.
2. Home Parties/Direct Sales - I put this above Full Price Retail because, while similar, the Home Party shopping scenario involves it's own language and a degree of pressure not found in the standard retail environment. In the Home Party scenario, there is a "Hostess" who invites all her friends to a "Party" at her home. When they arrive they are wined and dined and exposed to a line of merchandise, some of which is displayed while the rest is promoted in a glossy catalog (sometimes called the "Catty".) The hostess may say repeatedly that there is no pressure to buy anything, but all the guests know that the hostess will "Earn" free merchandise based on their purchases and therefore can't help feeling obligated to make the party a robust shopping enterprise. Guests shop, pay full retail plus "Shipping & Handling", and try to eat and drink enough to make it feel like a genuine party. This system is sustained by the belief that someday each guest will take a turn as the hostess and reap the material rewards of the event.
3. Full Price Retail - This is basic shopping. You go to the store, select an item, pay the sticker price plus sales tax, and go on your way.
4. Retail Sales - While in the retail store you may find and purchase something with a reduced price. Savvy shoppers will seek out these items, sometimes buying in bulk to maximize saving while spending. This is referred to as "Spaving".
5. Antique Shops - These offer used merchandise in limited quantities. Most of this merchandise is also old, sometimes very old. In the US, very old merchandise is sometimes highly desirable. Slick antique marketers use the term "Vintage" to imply both old and cool. Other value-adding words are "Authentic" and "Original".
6. Flea Markets - Flea markets are the ugly sisters of antique shops. While they might offer some vintage, authentic, and original pieces, they also sell a lot of stuff that is just old and used. Or maybe new. They're really all over the place. I like flea markets. And usually they have food vendors selling funnel cakes and hot dogs. This is a nice added service.
7. Thrift Stores - Goodwill is the most obvious example of the thrift store model, but every town has a fair number of smaller thrift stores, their titles indicating the charities they benefit. My town is home to The Shelter Shop, Community Kindness, The Mission Store, Salvation Army, St. Francis's, Tapestry of Community Offerings, and others. Thrift stores rely on donated merchandise and donated time. They have regular business hours and overhead expenses like electricity and rent. They attempt to display their wares like retail stores but often have only decapitated mannequins and wobbly racks. They all have a certain smell - not a good one - that must come from the donated items which have previously been stored in damp basements. I have found that a thorough washing will remove this smell.
8. Garage Sales - Also called yardsales, rummage sales, stoop sales, and tag sales, depending on your part of the country. As you know, because you are a loyal reader of the YSA blog, these sales are isolated events held on private property. They are advertised in local newspapers and by cardboard signs posted on prominent street corners. They vary in quality. A "Good" sale will have a large selection of merchandise, low prices, an enthusiastic proprietess, and a cute kid selling brownies. A "Bad" sale will have only a few items, a grumpy seller, and a mean dog. This is, of course, our favorite form of shopping because it includes research, planning, map reading, precision driving, rummaging, negotiating, hauling, and sometimes wrestling.
9. Garbage Picking - Sometimes called "Dumpster Diving", this is currency-free shopping. The rules for garbage picking are loose, but it is generally accepted that anything dirty-looking placed within 3 feet of the curb is free for the taking. Some people feel more confident asking permission from the home owner before loading the desired garbage into their car but this is not required.
10. Look in Your Basement for Something you Forgot you Already Owned - This is self-explanatory. This form of shopping if both free and easy. It requires very little effort and no gasoline. You likely have a whole bunch of stuff in your basement that you forgot you had. Go rummage through your own storage area and see if you can rekindle any long lost feelings of desire for the stuff you once felt compelled to purchase. If it doesn't stir your inner shopper, throw it in your car and haul it to Goodwill. I'll check it out later.

That's commerce in a nutshell, Readers. Shop on!

Nancy

Yard saler turns proprieteress

Readers, Nancy's post below is chock full of magnificent brilliance. You will be doing yourself a disservice if you don't read it.
Ok so my yard sale was this weekend, and as Nancy said, we have been a skotche busy. And tired. Here is Samantha (sorry, Sam, your eyes are closed) on Saturday. It was a fairly hot day, but mercifully not raining, as it had been the night before and early that morning.



Samantha and Sara also sold items on Saturday. Here is Sara's adorable son Dominic. I was being a very naughty girl by convincing Dominic he needed to take home many of my boys' toys that were for sale. Do you see the beautiful trees in our neighborhood?

Here was a delightful shopper who was wearing an Auburn hat (the Auburn part wasn't delightful). (I went to Florida). But he and his wife were jovial and fun.

A shopper drove up in this adorable vintage Dolly Madison truck. The shopper rescued it in a salvage yard and painted it. I would have traded all my merchandise and earnings, right then, for this truck. Wouldn't my kids and I look so vintage-y and authentically cute in it?

Here is Hudson, Sara, and Dominic. Notice how Sara unselfishly gave the boys the good chairs adn she got stuck with the car seat, although she repeatedly reassured Samantha and myself that she was quite comfy.

Readers, I have nothing else. I am tired. So very, very tired. My mom is here in town and has already made it clear she expects us to go yardsaling next weekend. Bring it! As long as I am not hosting, I am a-go!

Housewifery: A Defense of 21st Century Housewives

Oh, Readers. I'm sorry for the painful break in YSA postage! Our kids started school last week and we have been consumed with parent duties. And as Laura continues to be a student herself, she is doubly busy. She goes to class all day. In contrast, I sit around on my ass all day while my kids are in school. Ha. Not really. That was just my segue into the next paragraph.

Last week my husband's friend said to him, "What does Nancy do all day? You should really get her back into the workforce."

This friend, whom we will call by a pseudonym to protect him from the wrath of housewives everywhere, holds the same rank and pay grade as my husband. He is childfree and recently married a lovely childfree woman who also has a professional career and corresponding paycheck. We will give her a pseudonym as well. Let's call them Juan and Leeza McMajewski.

Juan wonders what I do all day. Of course, if Juan knew me when all five of my children were under eight he would not have asked this question. The answer would have been too obvious: housewives with five-under-eight wipe a lot of asses and read a lot of board books.

But now I am a housewife with five-between-seven-and-fourteen. They go to school all day. They all wipe their own asses and can read their own books.

So what do I do all day?

Oh, Juan, I'm afraid you will be sorry you asked.

I facilitate good hygiene.

I drive or escort people to school.

I encourage good manners.

I exercise, because it is good housewife strategy to remain attractive to the breadwinner.

I transport people to places where they have extra-curricular commitments.

I launder huge amounts of clothing.

I put some of this clean laundry away.

I wash the rims of toilets coated with errant urine.

I purchase enormous quantities of food.

I prepare, cook, and serve that food.

I scrub toothpaste residue from sinks.

I load and unload the dishwasher more times in one day than you do in a week.

I collect Nerf bullets from around the house and yard.

I put carefully selected and literarily significant books back on shelves.

I vacuum dirt from carpets.

I Windex fingerprints off windows and woodwork.

I scrub gum off floors.

I pick up dog shit.

I assist with homework.

I call doctors and orthodontists.

I transport people to appointments with doctors and orthodontists.

I email teachers about curriculum and performance.

I solicit businesses for donations to the school fundraiser.

I ease teachers' burdens by Xeroxing, collating, stapling, and filing.

I purchase unfathomable amounts of toilet paper.

I retrieve people from school.

I participate in "quality time" with children so they know they are valued and loved.

Juan, if I was "back into the workforce" I would not have the time to do all these things between 8 and 4. Someone would still have to do all these things. Either I would do them at other times or my husband would have to do them during his off-hours.

What I do is ease the burden on the rest of the family so they can enjoy their after-work-after-school time interacting with each other in pleasurable ways.

The End.

rummage sale madness (by Laura)

Readers, this is what Nancy's van o' dreams looks like as we near the end of a yard saling morning. Nancy refers to this spot in her van as the foyer. It certainly can hold many treasures.


This was a very well organized display of holiday items. I hope these nice proprieteresses had a van-load of decorating enthusiasts drive up after we left and buy everything.

Here are Nancy and Betty feverishly poring over bins full of paper products and scrapbooking supplies. They were very excited.

If you are holding your hammer together via tape, it is time to throw it out, not donate it to your church's rummage sale.

Here is Betty, happily posing for me as I show her my neat new camera phone.

Just so you know, Readers, I have not eaten one single bite of the aforementioned donuts. Here they are, as of 10 minutes ago. I was really hungry. Yard saling does that to you.

Here is Nancy displaying one of her hats she purchased today. I think she should wear it to the kids' first day of school this week, as a sort of celebration. What do you think?

Here are lovingly homemade tissue box holders. I wonder if I will ever get to a point in my life when I have time, let alone the desire to crochet a cover for an item that is inanimate (i.e., it doesn't get cold). I hope not.

Here is the largest collection of used Ace bandages I have ever seen. Was this from a large family of mostly boys who were always roughhousing and hurting themselves? Brittle-boned elderly nuns who sprained lots of ankles? An emergency department employee who is a member of St. Henry's who was desperate to donate something? Who needs this many Ace bandages? Readers, there is a story here.

I was intrigued by this item at St. Henry's. There were many balsalm-wood pieces in the box below. An aspiring architect's model set? Something that was used in architecture school in the 80s? A modern-style dollhouse? Samantha, help us out here.

As Nancy mentioned below, I will be putting on the proprieteress' hat this coming Saturday. I am woefully unprepared, and hope to get everything in gear soon. Check back in next week to read all about what is sure to be an adventure!

National Yardsale Day!

We started the day with a highly anticipated estate sale. Usually, an estate sale is the liquidation of a deceased person's collected property, minus the good stuff that his kids have skimmed off the top. But today's estate sale was the liquidation of a young family's stuff. They are moving and down-sizing. At first I felt sad and ashamed -- sad to witness the family's loss of such beautiful things and ashamed to be a vulturous beneficiary of this family's hardship.

But then I decided to look at it a different way...

This family has not waited until the end of their lives to realize that their material objects are just the trappings of this world. This family is refocusing their energy now on the things that matter: family, health, and happiness. The rooms full of silver and china mean nothing. The furniture and books are absolutely replaceable. They are moving forward into the future unencumbered by these tangibles, free to appreciate and enjoy each other without the usual material clutter of middle class life.

Having said that, I bought some great shit!

I got a couple of metal hanging planters, some cute wall art, some smelly soap, some costume jewelry... Betty bought a wonderful dresser which will live in my house until she retires this November and moves down here to establish herself as a full-time member of the YSA club.

Here we are with the numbers that would determine the order of our entrance into the sale.

Here is a savvy shopper who came early, got a low number, then skibbled over to QT for some coffee. Smart thinking!

Onward, Ho! ...to the St. Henry's rummage sale!

This was a standard sale. This little bitty church, dwarfed by Blessed Sacrament and Queen of Peace, it seems to me, somehow hauls in a mother load of junk every year. I found this hat lying on the floor.

Readers, what could this possibly mean? Here are some possibilities:

1. This hat is to be worn by rescue workers who need to clear a very noisy building in a time of danger.

2. This hat is to be worn by someone who is suffering from an intestinal parasite.

3. I can't think of any other reason.

The top purchase at St. Henry's was Sara, the life-size pony. JoJo and Addie snagged her for 75 cents and plan to work out some sort of joint custody arrangement.

We had to go to QT immediately because St. Henry's did not have a bake sale and the kids were starving to death. Donny and I bought the standard double taquito meal. Jo and Addie got donuts. Betty enjoyed a cucumber chicken caesar wrap. And Little Laura bought this:

That is a gigantic smoothie of some sort, two egg sandwiches, and a box of donuts. I don't think I've ever seen Laura in such close proximity to such a large quantity of food. She claimed the donuts were for her kids but I can't confirm that they were ever delivered to those poor boys.

We skivved a bit after that. Donny wanted me to take a picture of this flag pole:

In his opinion, its owner is either creative with PVC or disrespectful of the flag. We couldn't tell.

Next week: Laura hosts a yardsale! Saturday 8/21 at her house. Come early. Bring cash.

hot saling (by Laura)

Readers, I have no pictures to entice you with today. I apologize for my lacksadaisical approach to yard sale blogging. All of our sales today were skivs, so I was highly unprepared. And when I say "our", I mean myself and my three boys. On a very, very, very hot and humid day. Yuck.
So the first sale was hot. And there was no shade. A delightful tower of stuffed animals with a lizard jauntily set atop all of its friends was quickly reduced to a Pompeii-esque cascade after Hudson took a flying leap at them. My thought was that he was wishing it was a pool, so very hot it was. I figured I was getting dirty looks thrown at me by the many proprieters at this sale (like, 6 of them!) so I quickly grabbed a Harry Potter book missing in my collection (reassured, I was, by Nancy, that it was indeed returned to my house, but I do tend to lose things immediately) for $1 and scored a Hidden Pictures bonanza book for my boys, which prompted an immediate fight in the car and thus was taken away from one of them for the rest of the day. Aah, nothing like brotherly harmony (not) instituted by the sharing of a used, 25 cent book that they have probably done before, as they are taken from the Highlights magazine. Enough of the book. Moving on....
To sale #2, the big one of the day. This was a poorly advertised estate sale in (what else) a deceased person's home that smelled like (what else) a combination of old, shag carpeting, mothballs, and stale, dank air. Nancy and I have blogged before about the depressing aura that surrounds these locales, and really, it just is. This woman must have been a hoarder-lite, or else she had big dreams that she had fancy places to go, because I have never seen such a collection of narrow, ugly, and new (25 years ago they were new, but they still had the tags on them) 5 1/2-sized shoes in my life. My tiny friend had amassed such an impressive collection that she had one large bin solely for tennies, one for flats, boots, and I lost track of how many others. Brand new costume jewlery could be had by the pound, at this sale. I was intriqued by the story there , for surely there was a story, but, as my three catastrophe-makers were tearing through the house looking for stuff to break, I couldn't stay and chat.
Sale #3 was where I made a major yard sale faux-pas. The signs did not list a time, and it was getting to be 2pm. The only sign that listed hours was once you get to the house. They were obviously packing up, so I jumped out, peeked in, saw that everything was for kids younger than my own, and faster than you say "How rude are you, crazy lady, thinking a yard sale would still be open at 2pm!" we were outta there.
Readers, stay with me a bit longer, as I have exciting news about tomorrow. An estate sale in Country Club. Yes. Where you are not allowed to have yard sales because it is a country club. And Nancy is back. And St. Henry's is having a rummage sale, which they have approximitely 12 (I may be exaggerating here) times a year, but still! This is where Nancy scored her best-ever orange chair! I am a-flutter with anticipation! That and the afternoon stray poop found in the pool (NOT placed there by one of mine, thankyouverymuch), and boy did we have an interesting day. I have high hopes that tomorrow will top today. And also that school starts soon.

jail (by Laura)

Readers, here is the county jail. A sale I attended was directly across the street.


As you can see, the jail officials are very strict.

Here is the most extensive collection of old spice containers I have personally ever seen.

Readers, I was alone again this weekend as both Nancy and Samantha are vacatationing. The sales were plentiful in number, but puny in offerings, as evidenced by this drive-by shot of a particularly pitiful sale:

I am taking this through the car window because, readers, I am a coward. There weren't many salers out this weekend, so at many sales I was the sole peruser. This makes it difficult to surrepitiously snap incriminating photos of a 30 year collection of Playboy. The proprieters are keen on their observation of you, when you are the only hopeful buyer. This next sale was in someone's basement, which immediately set off warning bells in my head, but in I went anyway. It was a dark, dank basement where M. Night Shyamalan should spend some time, thereby getting the idea for his next thriller. Once again, it would have been painfully obvious had a taken a picture of the few offerings...that darn flash would have given me away.

I inadvertently stumbled upon this gold mine of a sale. Pseudonyms will be used for the proprieters, as these friendly folk did not wish to be identified. "Roy" is a contractor, and for the past 12 years has been storing the items he rips out of homes and businesses into the warehouse you see here.

Roy and his friend "Ralph" have rooms upon rooms filled with building supplies. Need a toilet? Roy and Ralph have aplenty.

Need some cabinets? Again, take your pick.

The only item I purchased was a twenty five cent Where's Waldo book for my boys, who promptly informed me we already owned that one. You could say it was a dud.

Owls for Sale-- a warning to retailers across America

(Mom - this is Nancy writing.)

I have hesitated sharing this information with you. I wanted to do some research on owls, dig up some background about their place in mythology, give you some sales figures, stuff like that. But I just don't have that level of journalistic commitment, so I'm going to rely on opinion and assumption.

No one wants owl figurines anymore.

There. I said it.

This information might come as a shock to you -- especially if you are a professional buyer or merchandiser at Target or Old Navy or any of the other bazillion stores that currently think owls are the hot icon for selling clothing and kid's decor.

I can report, based on my experience in the field, that Americans are liquidating their stock of owl figurines. Maybe owls work as images on products, but in the current economic climate they are undesirable as free-standing statuettes.

I think maybe owl figurines were popular in the 60s and 70s. "Give a Hoot, Don't Pollute." "How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?" You remember. And they were usually that nice brown color that was popular then. Add some avacado green and some goldenrod and you would have had a top-selling knick-knack! I'm sure the powers-that-be in 2010 mass merchandising are tapping into our Brady Bunch memories and pushing the owl icon along with the peace sign, Love Bugs, and those big, cartoon-y flowers. Maybe a t-shirt with Woodsy the Owl on it makes the adults of our country feel young again.

But I can assure you, there is a surplus of owlish objects in the garages of this country. Week after week, we see them on dirty card tables, sandwiched between old mugs and ashtrays, offered for sale for a few measly cents. Under no circumstances should the Target buyers order owl tchotchkes!

As evidence of this excess-owl-phenomenon, I offer these photos, collected over the past year during my yardsale adventures:

I rest my case.

Nancy