Tag sale, garage sale, yard sale, estate sale are some of the labels given for the process of ridding oneself of unnecessary stuff. It usually happens when one realizes they have abundance of unimportant items accumulated in their life. You then put out a sign attracting strangers; strangers who harbor hopes of finding novel items of unknown worth to the seller, adding to their collection of tie tacks or penknives, killing time, furnishing their college apartment or perhaps stumbling on that odd book that will complete them. Those shoppers usually continue to collect items until one day they come to the realization that they’ve accumulated too much stuff and put out their own sign. The process is like some great tide that washes across our country, distributing and redistributing our collective stuff.
The difference between an “Estate sale” and a tag sale, at least for me, is that strangers are allowed entry to my house, can peer into my cupboards and even bounce on the beds. I panicked on Friday morning as the buyers assembled outside our house at 7 AM while the sale was scheduled to start at 9! We had purchased some “Caution” tape with the intention of Xing out the doorways of the forbidden rooms. We tied closed the appropriate kitchen cabinets, stored the laptop computers in the van and warned the early birds that we would not be opening early! Barbara, my neighbor and dear friend, was armed with a carpenter’s apron and a thermos of strong coffee, as was I. The doors opened and the investigators edged their way into their first adventure of the day! Dan and Barbara were to oversee the outside sales as I monitored the house.
I have no idea of the first item to ring the cash register for the day but there were many sales! Tag sale expectations vary from host to host, I expect. For me, emptying the house of unneeded furniture and knick-knacks, picking up some extra spending money, and, mostly, meeting virtual strangers and having a connection are my motivations. So, when George arrived I smiled. He had made an impression at our first sale. George has a slight frame with a kyphosis tilting him forward. His 80+ years stand him in good stead. He may not initially have human eye contact but he knows what he is looking for and he has a style of scouting out the scene to take advantage of quick inspection. Once he had my attention he fired questions regarding the price of specific objects and without missing a beat he would decide if he would add that item to his list. Being the accommodating person I am I became his personal escort throughout his sweep. He did the house tour in an efficient manner and as I was assembling his items outside the front door, he had made his way outside to the garage. It is a shopper of practiced skill who can maneuver the convoluted shapes into a beat up old car, tying some items to the top.
The part I like about tag sales is that you have something to talk about to relative strangers. And sometimes it is a conversation of consequence. Maybe “estate” sales primarily happen after someone has died or has had to leave their home, perhaps to go to a nursing home. Most often folks are not getting rid of most of their material possessions; then what?! And that was one of the questions: Are you moving far away? Well, yes, sort of, we are sailing around the world! The response was varied – disbelief that they could know someone that they may have only read about in the paper, fear for our safety, awe that we could part with all our “stuff” to follow our heart and live our dream, applause that we are doing it! The excitement of our reality became palpable in some. One young man wanted to join on as crew; Dan carefully guided him by saying; work hard, save your money, find a boat, fix it up and set out! It clearly wasn’t the answer that he was looking for but he seemed to hear and accept it.
While packing up a set of dishes for my dear friend who is having a hard time realizing that I am leaving, her partner was telling me stories of his family and their life of multiple moves that lessoned the amount of “treasures” his family accumulated. As I carefully wrapped each plate in newspaper I thought of the times I had washed each dish by hand while basking in the glow of the friends and family who had sat at our table and shared a meal; tears came to my eyes and I shared these memories with this man I barely know.
There were many giggles Dan and Barbara and I shared as our paths sometimes crossed: imagine, that woman wanted to buy the tie backs for the curtains, and the one who wanted to take the dried flowers off the front door, or best yet, in the side garden there were 5 bags of top soil not yet spread – both days there was a request to buy my dirt! Susan, a woman in her 50s, I’d guess, came to us guided by the signs on the street. She was wearing a black camisole and a pencil skirt. Her bright red lipstick was spread beyond her lips and she walked deliberately in her 3” heels. She carefully chose some stylish clothes from the rack and when she thought she was ready to pay she came into the house. The old violin was sitting on a chair in a row of caned seated chairs in the dining room. She picked up the instrument and although the strings were loose and untuned she pulled the bow across the face declaring that she had played the violin in high school. A look of pleasure came over her face. Inspecting for obvious flaws she asked if the violin was sound. After some time passed allowing her to consider the challenge, she made an offer and in short time she was walking out of our house toting her own violin that she intended to begin, once again, to practice. An instrument is meant to be played.
Probably my most memorable encounter of the day was Cora, an 86 year old African American woman of tiny build wearing a large white straw hat with a turned up brim all around. She is a gardener and she bought up every pot and bucket I had! I even offered her my rain barrel and we loaded it into her daughter’s car. It was clear that her daughter had difficulty keeping up with momma. The volume of purchases required that they needed to come back 5 times to get all the items into the car. Each time they returned, Cora would fine more things to add to her pile. All in all the amount of money that was exchanged was minimal but the laughter and kinship was not to be missed. I expect to hear from her again as she is interested in the cinder blocks that were under the dog house and the double bed mattress once it is not longer needed.
After the sale and the casting away of most of our “stuff” Dan and I are closer to begin ready for our cruise. The time spent letting go of “things” and sharing that letting go with others will continue to bring joy to my heart as I think of the encounters I had. Who knows, perhaps one day, one the many little treasures that we cast upon the waters may make its way back to us.
