Odds, sods, and bookends

The past few days - well, up until last Sunday, at least - have been somewhat hectic.

It's called a "Garage Sale". [um, didn't have a "garage" to sell, though did have a carport, and a house-full of knick-nacks .. heh.]

As usual, had been perpetually procrastinating, had intended to hold the "Household clearance" sale weekend before last, but one thing piled on top of another - plus cousin wasn't available to assist - until last Saturday. Still felt completely disorganised, but actually remembered to place an Ad in the paper last Friday afternoon. The lass on the phone at "classifieds" was very helpful.

"hello," say I, "never done this before, but do you have a section for Garage sales in Saturday's paper?"
"Oh yes," she replies, so we talked through the "usual" sort of wording. Suburb, address, item categories then she said "Do you really want to put your house number in?"

Er, yes, think dingbat me, how else are people going to know where it is.

Now, am not sure how common this is - but i have a curious sort of "dis-connect" between "knowing" and "doing". In other words - I know what the likely result from an action will be .. but go ahead and do it anyway.

Had heard that some of the "dealers" scavengers are likely to turn up at the strangest of hours - but me? ah, will cope with it if it happens.

The first edition of the newspaper comes out at midnight.

So, had been pottering around for several days before Friday, trying to get things organised .. tidy up, figure out what I needed to keep, what to "let go", but live on my own without much in the way of 'whip-crackers' or assistance, so progress was somewhat slow. Spent Friday morning painting signs on cardboard boxes, and getting some balloons and ribbons. At this point most of the "ornaments", crockery and dinner sets were still wrapped in paper, packed in cardboard boxes from the previous move, 12 months ago.

Another small problem was beginning to dawn on me. Had originally intended to transfer everything that I wanted to "keep" into the caravan - then just open the doors of the house so people could just browse though what was on view. Hoo boy.

Had - more or less - finished the "refurbishment/additions" to the caravan where I needed the room to move, then had transferred most of the "essentials", and the van is full to overflowing, BUT - for some reason still had a whole ROOM FULL of "stuff" left over. Oh well, think i, just put a sign on the door - "Private -No Entry", and sort though that stuff later.

Had arranged with cousin and daughter to turn up Saturday morn at 7am.

Friday night, had trouble sleeping. Fell into bed at about midnight, fitfully tossed and turned until about 4am. Out of bed, opened front door to let in some cool air [has been 38-40C for the past week or so] then Aarrrgh! no coffee. Made a cuppa tea, and thought about unpacking the ornaments. Still half asleep, walked past the door to still dark front room - and there's a bloke standing there! "G'day", sez he. "SHIT!", exclaim I, almost performing that action. [for a bit of perspective - am an almost solitary recluse, and there has been no other person come into this house, day or night, for several months.]

Quickly recovered though ["anal retentive" takes a different perspective and is, at times, an advantage]. "So," sez he, "what have you got?" I took him on a quick tour [he even brought a torch]. He knew what he was after, though. Wasn't interested in very much, but did surprise me.

There was an old wooden "traymobile" circa 1930, not flash, belonged to my mother. "How much?", he asks. "Errrm, $10.00?" say I, hopefully. "I'll give you $50.00", sez he. 'Tis always a pleasant surprise when people negotiate upwards!

Well, everything became a bit of a blur, after that. In they came. Must have been about 6-8 people then, between 5 and 6.30am. Chaos, crows around a carcase. They fossicked rapidly through the boxes, strewing paper wrappings willy-nilly, a couple of items broken without recompense. Me trying to "supervise" four rooms, as well as trying to remember who had "bought" what. Deals were done; some good, some not [cheapskates]. Some stuff honestly acquired, some probably "walked".

By 6.45 had sold - dining table with six chairs, corner cabinet, sideboard, three "nest of tables" .. and who knows what else - most of the furniture - and 3/4 of the knick-nacks.

Cousin and daughter arrived at 7am. "Piss orf," say I, mind still reeling, "it's all over". He was slightly bemused and non-plussed at first, but grinned - then made lottsa cuppsa tea [had, miraculously, managed to hang on to my tea-bags, sugar and electric kettle .. heh], and we set about "tidying up".

It was only then, with some sanity and breathing space established - that I managed to take my balloons and (carefully painted) cardboard box signs announcing "garage sale - household clearance" out to the street corners.

There was a steady stream of browsers, buyers and "nosey-parkers" after that, but the bulk of the really "interesting" items had gone, so sales were slow. It was getting bloody hot by 11am, so was getting to the stage where, taking my cue from several local restaurants - was saying to everyone "All you can take - for a dollar."

[haven't even got to the "books" bit yet .. will add more - and some photos - soon].

[Addition:15 Mar 08]
This is probably a bit too late .. after all, who scrolls back this far .. heh. Not a lot more to write, actually. Have just added some photos. In retrospect, the day went quite well, but can't say that I made a lot of money as the "value" of things is always relative. I didn't put a "price" on anything, and if anyone asked, would say "What's it worth to you".

I felt the "saddest" really, over the books. While it IS true that have not read a book, cover to cover, for many years (internet, drat) I did have quite an eclectic collection, built up over many years, and it sometimes amazes me that I still have them, considering the amount of travelling that have done over the past 63 years. There are texts that belonged to my father and grandfather, and some from my early childhood, and it is really quite interesting to compare books printed in the '20's, '30's and '40's with those of today. I have a "Collins' Boy Scouts' Annual" which belonged to my father and must have been printed - in England - sometime during the 1920's (there is no mention, or indication among the stories that WWII had ever happened, or was about to happen. The only clue is a story "A century of transport 1827-1927"). All "tebbly, tebbly, British!" and a somewhat more "innocent", perhaps naive age.

Not many people were really interested in them, though did manage to offload about a quarter of them. "As many as you want, $1.00", and one bloke kept coming back at various times later during the afternoon.

Have no idea what am going to do with the ones left over, which have been out the front for the past week (there is a sign that says "For whatever a Word's Worth") ... perhaps St Vinnies or the Salvo's will find good homes for them.


The bloody annoying thing at the moment is that I STILL have a roomful of "other stuff" that am pretty sure won't fit in the caravan.