I used to love going out every Saturday morning to yard sales with the kids. We’d talk about all kinds of stuff and they each got to take turns being navigator. We’d get breakfast out and if the morning went long, we’d stop for Hawaiian Ices. Sometimes we found treasures, DVDs (or rather VHS tapes back then) in good shape and a decent price, clothes but not too often. Used closed are seldom a bargain. Sometimes we’d get junk and jewelry and costumy stuff just for fun.

They don’t want to yard sale with me anymore. It’s too early on a Saturday morning after a Friday night. *I* barely want to go out but I did today.

Let me say, for all you who don’t live in AZ, there’s a small window of decent morning weather here. In what we call winter, it’s too chilly in the mornings to sit outside so few people have yard sales. And in summer it’s already 100 degrees at sunrise so you know, nobody really want to go out then either. NOW is a good time, the mornings are nice and breezy. So I went.

There was one sale where the woman had tagged every single piece of clothing with individual hand-written price tags with sizes and descriptions, as if you didn’t have the item RIGHT THERE. Can you say anal?

Directly across the street, there was a sale more like I’m used to where everything is thrown on a blanket for people to rifle through and everything was one price. I hate those. I’m not crawling around on the ground unless I get laid after.

At another sale today, the reek of cat piss and mildew was like an invisible wall about halfway up the driveway. The guy had a look like he couldn’t figure out why people would stop and walk back to their cars. Duh!

Not a lot of luck today. I came away with one really nice outfit for Kira and a plastic weenie whistle. Better luck next time.

Originally published at Spellwight.