Senor Ficas
barbgodshalk.blogspot.com
Senor Ficas has left the building, and he wasn’t even mine. Yet there was still much rejoicing. It is the aftermath of our 2014 yard sale and I am enjoying my new found space. We had a dear friend join us and thus ensure that we looked like we had a decent amount of stuff for potential shoppers to peruse. After all these years, though, I should know that isn’t much of a valid concern. The first things I find after any yard sale, are more things for the next yard sale.
I have said before that it seems like an ungodly amount of work for so little cash but after doing it for years, I have learned two things. Most likely I have some sort of genetic disorder/compulsion and I have yard sales for the esoteric benefits. This is partly due to the way I grew up, yes, mom, you started it. Why throw out what you can sell? When you grow up in a house where money’s tight, some things just stick.
I’m also finding out that how much money you end up making isn’t really the point, although it is a strong lure. I find this part a bit puzzling since our profits from year to year are about as consistent as scratch off lottery tickets - yet we can’t stop playing! The nicest benefit of gong through the process is heardng everthing that needs to leave in one place. It’s the one time of year, we specifially make time to ‘Spring clean’ with the intent of getting rid of things. The tax accountant in me would also say ‘why throw out what doesn’t sell when you can itemize’?
We go back and forth on the subject of stopping because of the money. ‘We only made $40 bucks this time, that’s it, I’m done, no more!’ The next year, however, hoipe springs eternal. I find myself calling my mom, ‘The community center just put up their signs, mark you calendar, we’ve got to get ready!‘ After our most recent sale, we actually made enough to pay for a nice dinner. So much for retirement. Here we go again.
barbgodshalk.blogspot.com
Senor Ficas has left the building, and he wasn’t even mine. Yet there was still much rejoicing. It is the aftermath of our 2014 yard sale and I am enjoying my new found space. We had a dear friend join us and thus ensure that we looked like we had a decent amount of stuff for potential shoppers to peruse. After all these years, though, I should know that isn’t much of a valid concern. The first things I find after any yard sale, are more things for the next yard sale.
I have said before that it seems like an ungodly amount of work for so little cash but after doing it for years, I have learned two things. Most likely I have some sort of genetic disorder/compulsion and I have yard sales for the esoteric benefits. This is partly due to the way I grew up, yes, mom, you started it. Why throw out what you can sell? When you grow up in a house where money’s tight, some things just stick.
I’m also finding out that how much money you end up making isn’t really the point, although it is a strong lure. I find this part a bit puzzling since our profits from year to year are about as consistent as scratch off lottery tickets - yet we can’t stop playing! The nicest benefit of gong through the process is heardng everthing that needs to leave in one place. It’s the one time of year, we specifially make time to ‘Spring clean’ with the intent of getting rid of things. The tax accountant in me would also say ‘why throw out what doesn’t sell when you can itemize’?
We go back and forth on the subject of stopping because of the money. ‘We only made $40 bucks this time, that’s it, I’m done, no more!’ The next year, however, hoipe springs eternal. I find myself calling my mom, ‘The community center just put up their signs, mark you calendar, we’ve got to get ready!‘ After our most recent sale, we actually made enough to pay for a nice dinner. So much for retirement. Here we go again.
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