Almost every Saturday morning my husband would go to the Farmer’s Market and look for a bargain to add to the rest of the bargains in our basement. His bargains included chairs, books, radios, all kinds of tools, tires, all types of containers, paintings, and so on and so on. His Farmer’s Market empire accumulated clutter beyond description. The bargains were piling up and the frustration was trying not to take the shape of a raging monster, for pretty soon there wouldn’t be room for another bargain. That was his thing though and I didn’t complain out loud. But inside I was screaming and kicking, Tadacip “When will it all end?!!

Todd died ten years ago and since then I’ve been trying to get rid of all of that clutter without having a garage sale. Some of it is really good stuff. I just don’t have time for organizing a garage sale. No garage sale! It’ll take all day Saturday! Then I moved half of the clutter into the garage and gave oodles of it away. I even printed fliers, put them in mailboxes, gave them to friends to pass along, and distributed them at church and all around my neighborhood. But the more I’d get rid of, the more the piles would appear to swell all over again. But that wasn’t enough! My cousin decided she was going to have the courage of a lion and called to tell me she was moving and asked if she could store about twenty boxes of items in my basement. Then she begged. The basement in her new townhouse was oh, so tiny. Then she begged some more. What is wrong with me??? Okay, you’re right. I admit it. I weakened, relented and agreed to let her increase my ball of frustration and vat of agony. Anyhow, she stacked all of those boxes against my basement wall higher than the windows and blocked out the light. Well, not only did the room go black, but that was when I made all of the stuff that haunted me darken and hidden and blocked it all out so I wouldn’t have to think about clutter any longer.

But alas! Very soon, before I knew what was happening, I starting rearranging and sorting all of the garage stuff into categories of books, fishing equipment, lawn supplies, tools, electronics, paint, games, furniture, etc.–hoping organizing it would somehow help me get rid of it. Of course, little good that did! Still I refused to have a garage sale because it would take all day Saturday.

A few weeks ago a husband of a friend of mine who is an electrician fixed my light switch and didn’t charge me for the work. So I let him select whatever he wanted from the garage. He piled loads of tools and garden items in his truck. But when I turned and looked around, his haul hadn’t made a dent.

So finally I’ve decided that it’s time. I hate to say it, but it’s time. It’s time to have that dreaded garage sale. Oh, by the way, after five years my cousin finally retrieved half of her fifteen boxes and now the beautiful sunlight shines through the windows again. Perhaps the contents of the rest of those boxes would feel right at home being part of my garage sale. You think? And it’ll take all day Saturday!

Author Bio: Shirley Vaughn-Hammond is a retired teacher and a writer. She has written two Christian books–“Glory! Glory! Pieces of God’s Story” and “His Story! His Glory!”. She enjoys writing poems for worship and other events and likes to write articles about her life. http://www.TripleClicks.com/10971252/go

Category: Home Management
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