The Yard Sale

We’re moving.

So out goes the call to the Nobleman of Yard Sales, my brother-in-law.

We all have our strengths, mine is not holding a Yard Sale; bartering is not my strength. While vacationing in Mexico the local marketers always welcomed me by Adios Senora BoBo.  I understood Adios and Senora; BoBo was self explanatory. 

The planning, organizing, advertising, greeting, negotiating and finally the closing, I fall apart at the moment the gates are open.

Everything must go; I don’t want to pack all these bits and pieces.   His instructions were simple;  sort what you don’t want to take and we will have a yard sale.  Simple, right.

He knows me better than I thought.  He was at the house bright and early the next morning, had made the coffee,  and when I walked into the garage he was pulling everything out of the garbage bags I had previously labeled for the landfill.  His expressions were defining; for the following four hours all I heard was how crazy I was, these mirrors have never been used; how crazy I was, this ratchet set has not even been open; how crazy I was, these lamps are still in boxes, and on and on   Instructions were left with my family that I was not allowed access to another garbage bag.  Everything that I felt was landfill destined was to be placed in the garage where it would be later assessed.  I kept my head down for the rest of the day; I had been made to feel that I had taken the food out of my family’s mouth. 

The morning had arrived.  All the advertising, the sorting and displaying was done.  It was a country yard sale so the assortment was large.  Advertising had been put in all the newspapers for 300 mile vicinity. 

My brother-in-law was ready, almost giddy with excitement. He looked at me and suggested that I stay out of the way and if anyone has any questions to refer them over to him.  To secure his interests, my son, who had framed his first $5.00 bill from the tooth fairy, immediately took up negotiations with his Uncle to secure an acceptable deal for the numerous books that he had donated to the sale.

The gates opened at 9 am sharp, and in they came.  Walking, biking, driving cars and trucks, with and without trailers.  A kaleidoscope of caricatures engulfed the yard, the house and all the buildings.

I am the shopper that has never seen a Boxing Day sale and now feel if I took one more step backwards to avoid the crowds I would be in my neighbors pasture. My brother-in-law was everywhere; weaving and dodging in the crowds.  Regardless of age, he was engaging in conversation, not allowing anyone out of the yard before he closed on a sale.  He had already sold the series of children books to a young man who had come prepared with his red wagon.  

Now over at the play house having a conversation with two children who had taken cover inside.  They assured my brother-in-law that they were perfectly fine and pointed to where their parents were.  He left, comfortable knowing their parents were close at hand.

The garage had been set up as the library corner and it was bustling with activity.  All the neighboring women were deep in debate critiquing the diet and exercise books spread along the table. The country community, regardless of their destinations, always came prepared; from the trunks of cars were folding chairs, thermos’s of coffee, juice boxes, lunch boxes and of course mini donuts. After being given a coffee, I was asked how successful all those diet books had been for me.  No comment.  I glared over at my brother in law wanting to remind him that these were the books that had been destined for the recycling bin.  A neighbor thought they might be a good Mothers Day gift for her mother-in-law; this of course brought a thunderous roar of laughter.  Unless a member of their family summoned them, everyone was content continuing their tête-à-tête, while all the men were spread about the yard looking at tools and supplies.  I admired this group of women; they never questioned, or were questioned of their place in the family. 

Their attention went over to the costume jewelry counter where there was a young teenage couple contemplating purchasing the Pink Panther diamond on sale for .50 cents. There was a reference made to their appearance being that of a young Beauty and the Beast.   Finally, they agreed on the diamond.  They were thrilled, not only was the ring adjustable they still had change for a coke. 

 Feeling somewhat guilty as to my level of enjoyment in the library circle, I excused myself and went out looking for my brother-in-law to offer my assistance. 

Failing to locate him, I joined in a conversation happening between a father and son.  They were sitting on bar stools belonging to the brass framed bar counter.  The son was reminding his father that they had been sent here today to find kitchen chairs and he knew that Mom would be mad if they came home with a bar counter and stools. His father took heed to his son’s comments and called a friend, who agreed to come and buy the counter and stools.  With that done they selected six kitchen chairs and loaded them onto the back of the truck. 

A truck and trailer had arrived in the field and was parked beside the barn and storage buildings.  I did not recognize the rig or the driver so I wandered down.  He quickly introduced himself as the husband of a library wife with the donuts and confirmed that she had made a deal with my brother-in-law for all the left over items.  There were Christmas decorations, buckets, barrels, ropes, a ladder and tires.   I admitted to him that I hope they didn’t pay anything for this and he confirmed that all this was going down to a church in a small community south of the City.  The church had burnt down last winter and they were helping rebuild it.   They had lumber, paint and benches from another sale this week.  He commented that the community would sure be excited about all these Christmas decorations.  My brother-in-law now standing beside me whispered that maybe this would be a good place for the play house to go.  I was grateful for his suggestion and quickly agreed. 

By 6 p.m. the crowds had departed.  Only a few items remained and they were quickly turned over to the library wife with the mini donuts and her husband.

 To my surprise the diet and exercise books had been sold earlier that afternoon.

I was no better at mastering the art of bargaining, but I certainly enjoyed attending this Off Broadway performance, all under the Directorship of the Nobleman of Yard Sales.