|This worm or caterpillar was atop Tom’s blue Croc as the last shopper as the jewelry sale walked out the door and screamed.
We live on a peninsula, a narrow “road to nowhere.” We are the second house from the end. With water on both sides of us, there is no sidewalk, no curb, no gutter and little parking room. We’ve always considered this a small price to pay to be surrounded by water.
As a result of this parking dilemma, in 26 years in this house, we’ve never had a garage sale. The idea of strangers coming to our home, parking on the lawn when the few space run out, made us cringe.
Alas, our estate sale guy Jim Anderson suggested I sell my costume jewelry rather than leave it for the estate sale where it becomes difficult to control with many shoppers hovering about.
As I wrote in last week’s post, I sold my loose gold and silver while awaiting an offer on my wedding ring, hopefully to hear soon. A sale at our home was the most practical solution, albeit our concerns about the parking.
My dear friend and next door neighbor offered to be “the guard,” helping me put up the signs and keeping me company, making the event less dreadful.
I hoped for rain so I could cancel it, watching the weather report every few hours. Why put off the inevitable? Then, I looked up “jewelry lots” on eBay, hoping to find that I’d get a good price for the entire batch. Not the case.
The signs I made on neon pink poster paper with a huge black marker, all purchased at the Dollar Store for less than $5, easily glued to the sign bases Tom made for me last weekend using four $1.69 wooden stakes, nailed to four pieces of particle board the hardware store cut for me for $9.00. Total sign cost was around $20.
The signs read:
As it turned out 2:00 pm was a poor time to start a sale. We were hoping to catch the “on their way home from work” crowd, which we did to a degree. But the first three hours were a bust. A kindly, experienced garage sale enthusiast suggested we try in the early morning when the serious shoppers are frantically driving around.
The end result of the sale was $152, not what I’d expected. I looked up “jewelry lots” on eBay again. My dear neighbor pushed me, “Let’s do it again next Thursday. I’ll help!” Grudgingly, I agreed.
As the last shopper walked out the door, her plastic bag of jewelry in hand, her daughter let out a gasp. This is what she saw, atop Tom’s Croc, outside our kitchen door:
I guess Africa will have bigger, scarier such things. I didn’t scream. Instead, I took a photo.