Yesterday I had one of the Spring Rite of Passage events; a stinking yard sale. It's quite a process that makes absolutely no sense at all once it's all over and done with. We spend hours combing through each and every room and closet for things forgotten, too small, or just plain in the way.
When we have gone through most and feel we still don't have enough to make that extra yearly income during this one day of the year, we become creative in the discipline department so that no child could possible live up to our standards, while we hold some "valuable" piece of toy hostage in hope of adding it to our sale. In other words, we loose our grasp on reality at this time of year.
For some reason, because of this one day in Spring, we become absolute retarded idiots in hopes of becoming a few bucks richer for our efforts. Never mind that most of the stuff we are selling is JUNK anyway. We still look at it like it's a priceless antique and give it some clever little acronym like EUC and stick a ridiculous price on it like it just entered the house yesterday.
I like to sell my stuff for what it's worth - Nothing! I got over myself a long time ago with this yard sale thing. I finally stopped trying to make money, and starting thinking about actually getting rid of it! Frankly, I should write a blog on the art of being able to successfully sell your junk so that people will actually buy and you will stop thinking it's actually worth anything - because it's not.
But since we all have that other case of swine flu - the broken piggy bank kind - it's hard to downsize your financial fantasies regarding home based, junk selling businesses.
It was a slow day though. It would have helped if I had remembered about the Crawfish Festival going on downtown. There were lot's of yard/garage/trash-to-treasure sales in our neighborhood, but most of the community opted to suck crawfish heads and gulp mass quantities of alcohol in the hot sun instead. It is proved here that beer and fish are recession-proof.
I had been up since 6:30 shoveling all the stuff on the driveway and yard with my son. The husband who was suppose to help me was a no-show until 10:00 when he finally woke up. My son had been busy since the night before baking homemade brownies and preparing lemonade to sell alongside of me in order to raise some money for a new fishing rod. He wasn't fairing any better at the beginning of the sale either. Therefore, I felt worse for him.
We waited, and waited, and.... then we finally started selling. My son finally sold a few cups of lemonade, and his sisters were raiding their own piggy banks in order to buy some brownies; he wasn't giving anything away. He was focused, motivated, and on his own mission.
My husband finally had the bright idea of hitching his stuff up to the bike trailer and sending him on his way to the park where a local softball game was in action. This is where the day begin to change.
I was on my own now as the girls were sent packing themselves, to the park, and my husband ditched me for the computer. People strolled in and out and things were sold here and there until Miss Dorothy showed up. My desire to sell and make money was changed by my experience with her and by my son'sf ability to overcome adversity and intimidation while remaining focused on his goals.
When we have gone through most and feel we still don't have enough to make that extra yearly income during this one day of the year, we become creative in the discipline department so that no child could possible live up to our standards, while we hold some "valuable" piece of toy hostage in hope of adding it to our sale. In other words, we loose our grasp on reality at this time of year.
For some reason, because of this one day in Spring, we become absolute retarded idiots in hopes of becoming a few bucks richer for our efforts. Never mind that most of the stuff we are selling is JUNK anyway. We still look at it like it's a priceless antique and give it some clever little acronym like EUC and stick a ridiculous price on it like it just entered the house yesterday.
It's used shit - sell it like it's used shit!
I like to sell my stuff for what it's worth - Nothing! I got over myself a long time ago with this yard sale thing. I finally stopped trying to make money, and starting thinking about actually getting rid of it! Frankly, I should write a blog on the art of being able to successfully sell your junk so that people will actually buy and you will stop thinking it's actually worth anything - because it's not.
But since we all have that other case of swine flu - the broken piggy bank kind - it's hard to downsize your financial fantasies regarding home based, junk selling businesses.
It was a slow day though. It would have helped if I had remembered about the Crawfish Festival going on downtown. There were lot's of yard/garage/trash-to-treasure sales in our neighborhood, but most of the community opted to suck crawfish heads and gulp mass quantities of alcohol in the hot sun instead. It is proved here that beer and fish are recession-proof.
Again, we all have our priorities.
I had been up since 6:30 shoveling all the stuff on the driveway and yard with my son. The husband who was suppose to help me was a no-show until 10:00 when he finally woke up. My son had been busy since the night before baking homemade brownies and preparing lemonade to sell alongside of me in order to raise some money for a new fishing rod. He wasn't fairing any better at the beginning of the sale either. Therefore, I felt worse for him.
We waited, and waited, and.... then we finally started selling. My son finally sold a few cups of lemonade, and his sisters were raiding their own piggy banks in order to buy some brownies; he wasn't giving anything away. He was focused, motivated, and on his own mission.
My husband finally had the bright idea of hitching his stuff up to the bike trailer and sending him on his way to the park where a local softball game was in action. This is where the day begin to change.
I was on my own now as the girls were sent packing themselves, to the park, and my husband ditched me for the computer. People strolled in and out and things were sold here and there until Miss Dorothy showed up. My desire to sell and make money was changed by my experience with her and by my son'sf ability to overcome adversity and intimidation while remaining focused on his goals.
Please read on for the story continues:
