Back when we had a car, my husband and I used to go yard saling, which we referred to as “sailing the seas of yard.” We had rules about how much we would offer for things — if we could pick an item up with one hand, we started bidding at a nickel, two hands was 50 cents, and if we needed help to lift it, we offered a dollar. We would slowly cruise by the yard and peer at it before getting out of the car just to make sure it wasn’t a BTBC (“Broken Toys and Baby Clothes”).

We’re now moving out of the country and have TONS of stuff which would make for a great yard sale (the result of a decade of packrat life). I love bargaining with people and had fantasies of being the most poker-faced yard sale matron in our neighborhood this summer. But sadly we didn’t have time to organize a sale last weekend, so it’s all going out free on the curb.