SHERYL AND I just got back from Steve Rees' garage sale. Yes, you can garage sale. Now that I've used it as a verb, I feel dirty and violated.
There are many people who garage sale around here. To each his or her own, I guess. I don't hate garage salers. They should be sentenced to watch a season of Two Broke Girls in one sitting, a fate worse than death, but that's OK.
I'm not sure if my Dutchness was liberated from all the tremendous bargains, or if I'm just relieved we've relieved Steve of some treasured trinkets. Sheryl bought a wooden metronome, a box of yarn and all kinds of stuff in another box. She's putting it all in her late mother's curio cabinet. Her mother was a huge garage saler. She was still very cool.
I got a lava lamp for $2. TWO FREAKING BUCKS. It is awesome and makes my guitar lesson room glow with veritable awesomeness. Steve threw in a Verve Pipe CD, and I'm trying not to get emotional about it.
Steve's sale continues at Lisa Wigoda's amazing building, 835 South Eighth, all day today and tomorrow. The good stuff is going, but there's lots left. Sheryl is still looking for a Buddha statue so we can build a shrine to Steve in the store, so she might be back.
And I'm basking in the glow of lava lamp awesomeness.
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