retail crack

Hi, My name is Natalie and I have an uncontrollable addiction to yard sales.

I love them. If I am broke, I will throw Friday's paper away without ever taking the rubber band off of it, because I know that I will "accidentally" end up on the yard sale page, and something will catch my eye, and I will be up all night contemplating ways to beg, borrow or steal $10 to hit the sales.

Marty knows this is the way to get me "un-pissed" at him for those Saturday fishing tournaments. Right before he leaves at the crack of dawn on Saturday, he will wake me up and slip me the yard sale page and $20. "I love you honey, hope you find something good."

Elizabeth is almost as bad as me. She knows that if we go, she gets $4 of her very own, to be spent on whatever she wants. I try not to limit her, (except there is a "no stuffed animal" rule.)although there were times that I cringed. The huge Barbie Commercial Jetliner that broke into 400 small pieces everytime she touched it. This thing was twice the size of Colby when he was born. I have never seen it in stores. I guess you could simulate actual airliner crashes, because all the seats were removable and the wings popped off, as did all the doors and the cockpit controls. Not to mention, there were tiny plates of airline food, bags of teensy weensy peanuts, itty bitty magazines, miniscule pillows, and microscopic glasses... i suppose intended to hold those Bloody Mary's that Barbie is so fond of. The perfect thing to calm Barbie's nerves before a big flight to Paris, and to help tamper down her horrible panic attacks.

The funny thing is that I have always taken Elizabeth with me to yard sales. Back when she was a wee toddler, she used to embarrass the hell out of me when people would complement her on her outfits. See, she was born a diva. She can tell you where every item of clothing in her closet came from. Even at 2, she was extremely aware of her clothing. And more than once, someone would say "Oh, Elizabeth, that is such a pretty dress!" and she would reply, "Tanks. My mom gots it at Yard Sale." Like it was a store. It was funny, in a sad and twisted way.

Now Colby gets to tag along. He isn't too impressed just yet. Not even with the stuff he gets. But he will learn, or else he is going to have to start fishing with dad. I just wish he would learn to walk. I get quite the workout every Saturday, toting his 30 pound butt all over the neighborhood, trying to sort through peoples clothes and shoes and books and dinnerware, without dropping him, or missing a great deal.

Arkadelphia is a yard sale Mecca. Not only are the ads printed in the paper, they also print a "yard sale map" and show you where each one is. I am extra lucky because Marty is a fireman. Not only does he know the quickest path to each house, and what order I should take to insure the fastest coverage, he also nearly always knows whose house it is, and if it will be worth my time or not. "Hey, Marty? Where is 1111 South Adair Lane?" I will inquire from my cell. "Well, blahblahblah but if its 1111, I wouldn't even go out there. That is Mr. Messyhouse, and its pretty trashy." Thanks! A 10 minute drive that I don't have to make!

I have been a part of the Arkadelphia yard sale cult for so long that I have certain yard sales that I won't miss. And I have made yard sale allies... and foes... LOL! And in case you were wondering, it's not all about the clothes. I also love to hit yard sales where people have held on to stuff for centuries and are moving. I LOVE really gaudy stuff from the 70's and early 80's. You know, the mushroom dinnerware era. The Orange and Avacado Color Collection. Today, I bought a lettuce bowl. Its a bowl with a lid, but it looks like a head of lettuce. And it's bright green. At one time, I had a big avacado green hippopotamus toothbrush holder, and you could put your bar of soap in his mouth. HOW COOL! Somehow, Marty accidentally knocked it all the way across the counter and on to the floor. (Enough times that it actually broke.)

It's also great fun just to see what people are selling. The best thing I ever saw was this little old lady having a sale. She had everything very neatly hung and displayed like she was competing with Dillards. You could tell that it was mostly stuff that her family had given her, probably at Christmas and for her birthdays, that she had absolutely no use for. A Salad Spinner, still in the box. TWO George Foreman grills, also, still in the box. Quite a few clothing items, with tags. And on the table, with the all the dinnerware, next to a box of Corelle dishes (in the box) was a bong. I thought I would die. I suppose that one of her kids or grandkids had it hidden in the house, and she found it and assumed that it was another kitchen appliance that she couldn't figure out, and slapped a $1 tag on it.

Poor little old lady.