We held garage sales over the last 2 weekends. Most have held sales of their own. If you're like me, you have visited a few. When I stop at one, I'm certain that I'm going to find a Ming Vase, or an original copy of the Declaration of Independence tucked behind one of those bug eyed, fuzzy kitty posters.
Once I found a sterling silver chalice. I quickly snapped it up. The ornate engravings and elaborate swirls wrapped around the cup in beautiful detail. I was certain that King Arthur had sipped wine from it. It might even be the Holy Grail! I looked up the stamped marking on the bottom. It was from Egypt and worth $1.99. I bought it for a buck. I doubled my money. I'm ready for Suburban Pickers I reckon! My imagination is sparked when I see glimpses into peoples lives laid out on the tables before me.
Preparation for a hoarders blowout is tiring. After the items have been labeled as keep, sell or toss the adventure has just begun. All of the booty is moved into the garage staging area. Card and camping tables are round up to display the treasures on.
Cable television has permeated my psyche. I had visions of Martha Stewart chastising me for my lack of style and product placement. I organized the artifacts like Dr. Jones would at a museum exposition featuring items from the Temple of Doom. I created groupings on the tables to make visitors shopping experience more enjoyable. My final presentation would make the DIY girls giggle with envy. There were housewares to the left, and sporting goods to the right. The yard was divided into a men's and women's section.
As my wife and I went through the boxes we went through a range of emotions. There were nick-knacks that should have been tossed years before, there were broken cups and plates that had been casualties of basement living. Some of the discoveries were things stuffed away, instead of thrown away.
We had purchased a lot of things together. They had sentimental value, but we no longer had room for them in the basement. Many were items we couldn't even recall buying. We about statues and glass dolphins. Each one took us on a nostalgic journey through our time together.
Most of the romantic bears and hearts were gifts I had presented as offerings of forgiveness after I did something stupid. As Ron White says, "I was stuck on stupid," for a long time. I came across my son's first baseball glove and fondly relived the day I had gotten it for him.
Over the years I have been collecting the kids crafts and putting them in to a box. There are Popsicle stick creations and macaroni faces smiling up from the glitter covered box bottom. From hand made "whatever they were" to certificates of achievement, I had been socking them all away over the years.
While we were organizing I told Squeaky about the box. She had packed away some of the kids stuff as well. She was touched by my sentimental stash of childhood memories. I think, over the years, I had been filling the secret box as a small gesture, recognizing that even though my mind wasn't always there, my heart was still ticking
The sale began with a bang! I had set signs out at every entrance to our subdivision like political signs. For the first few hours I sold little insulted at the paltry offers for such amazing treasure. Many of the product offerings were methodically removed off the sales floor by some mysterious force as the weekend went by. If you can keep a secret. I just couldn't let go of some of our memories for fifty cents! I started another box! I made room for it in my office.
Garage sales are like life. We have to clean out some of the clutter to make our living space more manageable. We can't hold on to everything. It's impossible. There will be new things bought and received. Some will end up in future garage blow out sales.
Change is really tough sometimes, even when you know it's the right thing. Objects have no feelings. They create them in us. Some wax nostalgic as we see them daily. Yet others get passed by without notice. Things come and go. Memories are forever. There were many items sold that I couldn't hold on to any longer, that I will never forget.
No one can steal my joy, or my memories. As long as I'm growing, new memories will enhance the old ones. I can't live in the past or I won't move forward. Glancing back at it is good. Living in it gets me nowhere.
Financially the sale was a success. The remaining items will go to Goodwill and a Joliet Area Recovery Club. It makes me feel good that my treasures will soon be someone else who needs a few.
P.S. If anyone needs any old wooden spoons or coffee cups, let me know....
SOUL PAROLE: Making Peace with My Mind, GOD and Myself is on sale NOW at Amazon.com and Amazon Europe. Please visit tommyconnolly.com by clicking the link at the top of the page. The book will be available on Kindle in September, 2012.
Proceeds benefit Chicago Area addiction, homeless and mental health programs.
Once I found a sterling silver chalice. I quickly snapped it up. The ornate engravings and elaborate swirls wrapped around the cup in beautiful detail. I was certain that King Arthur had sipped wine from it. It might even be the Holy Grail! I looked up the stamped marking on the bottom. It was from Egypt and worth $1.99. I bought it for a buck. I doubled my money. I'm ready for Suburban Pickers I reckon! My imagination is sparked when I see glimpses into peoples lives laid out on the tables before me.
Preparation for a hoarders blowout is tiring. After the items have been labeled as keep, sell or toss the adventure has just begun. All of the booty is moved into the garage staging area. Card and camping tables are round up to display the treasures on.
Cable television has permeated my psyche. I had visions of Martha Stewart chastising me for my lack of style and product placement. I organized the artifacts like Dr. Jones would at a museum exposition featuring items from the Temple of Doom. I created groupings on the tables to make visitors shopping experience more enjoyable. My final presentation would make the DIY girls giggle with envy. There were housewares to the left, and sporting goods to the right. The yard was divided into a men's and women's section.
As my wife and I went through the boxes we went through a range of emotions. There were nick-knacks that should have been tossed years before, there were broken cups and plates that had been casualties of basement living. Some of the discoveries were things stuffed away, instead of thrown away.
We had purchased a lot of things together. They had sentimental value, but we no longer had room for them in the basement. Many were items we couldn't even recall buying. We about statues and glass dolphins. Each one took us on a nostalgic journey through our time together.
Most of the romantic bears and hearts were gifts I had presented as offerings of forgiveness after I did something stupid. As Ron White says, "I was stuck on stupid," for a long time. I came across my son's first baseball glove and fondly relived the day I had gotten it for him.
Over the years I have been collecting the kids crafts and putting them in to a box. There are Popsicle stick creations and macaroni faces smiling up from the glitter covered box bottom. From hand made "whatever they were" to certificates of achievement, I had been socking them all away over the years.
While we were organizing I told Squeaky about the box. She had packed away some of the kids stuff as well. She was touched by my sentimental stash of childhood memories. I think, over the years, I had been filling the secret box as a small gesture, recognizing that even though my mind wasn't always there, my heart was still ticking
The sale began with a bang! I had set signs out at every entrance to our subdivision like political signs. For the first few hours I sold little insulted at the paltry offers for such amazing treasure. Many of the product offerings were methodically removed off the sales floor by some mysterious force as the weekend went by. If you can keep a secret. I just couldn't let go of some of our memories for fifty cents! I started another box! I made room for it in my office.
Garage sales are like life. We have to clean out some of the clutter to make our living space more manageable. We can't hold on to everything. It's impossible. There will be new things bought and received. Some will end up in future garage blow out sales.
Change is really tough sometimes, even when you know it's the right thing. Objects have no feelings. They create them in us. Some wax nostalgic as we see them daily. Yet others get passed by without notice. Things come and go. Memories are forever. There were many items sold that I couldn't hold on to any longer, that I will never forget.
No one can steal my joy, or my memories. As long as I'm growing, new memories will enhance the old ones. I can't live in the past or I won't move forward. Glancing back at it is good. Living in it gets me nowhere.
Financially the sale was a success. The remaining items will go to Goodwill and a Joliet Area Recovery Club. It makes me feel good that my treasures will soon be someone else who needs a few.
P.S. If anyone needs any old wooden spoons or coffee cups, let me know....
SOUL PAROLE: Making Peace with My Mind, GOD and Myself is on sale NOW at Amazon.com and Amazon Europe. Please visit tommyconnolly.com by clicking the link at the top of the page. The book will be available on Kindle in September, 2012.
Proceeds benefit Chicago Area addiction, homeless and mental health programs.
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