Jumble, Yard or Tag

And in South America they probably have a name for it, too. You know, when you gather all the “stuff” from the back of the closet, the basement, and the attic and put it on public display? And hope that strangers buy it. I’ll bet you’ve been there and done that, huh? Hoping to make enough for a trip to Paris or at least a jaunt to the Stewarts around the corner for ice cream.

That’s how I spent my weekend. It was a family affair. I scurried about the house for the better part of a week boxing up goodies. I could be heard mumbling bits like, “Well somebody will be thrilled to get this at such a price!” Treasure after treasure went into the boxes and I was dancing. The Money song from Cabaret had me twirling. Cha-ching!  Yup, me and Liza Minnelli doing our thing.

I promised our nine-year-old granddaughter I’d contribute to her bake sale. I made toffee candy, vanilla cupcakes and blueberry muffins. She got top billing at the front of the lawn and did okay. One happy Anna.

What a cross cut of American society is the tag sale. As it happens, the local Lions Club was having their sale just across the street so we benefited from their efforts. Anyone coming down the road this past Saturday hit the jackpot if they were looking for bargains.

Like – the older women who are shopping for grandkids. They went right by my tables. So did the young mothers. They wanted toys and clothes. One of them was so moved by the glory of all the great toys she popped her head up long enough to say, “This is the best tag sale I’ve ever been to!” We, the purveyors of junk, simply smiled. It’s why we do this.

Another young woman came with her surly husband who did not want to part with fifty cents for two stuffed toys. An altercation arose and he marched back to their truck. Salty language filled the air and she stood her ground until he came back. He parted with his brass and off they went. Just before they took their leave, she shook my hand and told me her name. Weird. Oh – parting with your brass is a term that goes along with jumble. A tag sale in Britain is a jumble.

Around two o’clock on the second day my enthusiasm began to wane. And so did the shoppers. Nothing we had seemed to interest them so we began packing up. That’s when the young girl appeared at our sale with a few bucks from dad to spend. She grabbed the bags of Barbies (three dolls, clothes and accessories for $3). Such a deal. Kate looked at her dear young face and offered her a grocery bag. “Give me two more dollars and you can fill this up,” she said. Joy rang through the heavens on that child’s face.

It’s why we do this.

So – How was your weekend?  

Image: cooldesign                                               Free Digital Photos