Saturday (5th May) was the day of the great Garage Sale Trail. The Garage Sale Trail is about sustainability, community and creativity. Conceived as a platform for anyone who wants to make some money/raise some money and connect with their community, ultimately the Garage Sale Trail is about making sustainability both fun and social.
I love stuff like this. Fossicking around in other people’s belongings, hoping to turn up a little gem that may just make my heart sing. A bangle from the 1950s, funky old knitting patterns, a (toy) dog in high heels and a tutu: all of these things and more have to come to me via garage sales. Sadly I missed out on visiting the Garage Sale Trail this year as I took part instead! Yes, the declutter I mentioned in an earlier post is finally complete and from 7am until Midday (early birds aside!) Andy and I were spruiking our wares on the front lawn.
We had a couple of early arrivals but since they bought up big and were a very sweet older couple they were completely forgiven. We had three guys vying for our (broken) lawn mower and a car full of (how can I put this delicately?) bogans (I couldn’t put it delicately) do a slow drive-by before turning up their noses and screeching off up the street. I imagine their conversation went something like this: “naw, let’s get out of here Kev, we don’t want any of their shit!” “Yeah Darl, their crap isn’t even worth getting out of the Commodore for.” They were not missed.
I’d say it was a semi-success. I think we offloaded around 25% of our stuff which means our local op shop is about to hit pay dirt. It was fun and a surprisingly good way to spend some quality time with my little family as we sat and chatted between shoppers and watched our little girl toddle between the tables exclaiming “ooh” with each new discovery.
In other news, I have been on the hunt for the perfect wellies, or gumboots as they are more commonly called in Australia. We’ve booked a trip away to the country (in 15 days and counting!) and I strongly suspect there will be mud and puddles and possibly cow poop. Whilst I tend to skirt around these things – except for the occasional puddle, who can resist a quick splash when no one is looking? – Agatha is drawn to them like a bear to honey. Her tiny feet tingle in anticipation of a good old rollick and who am I to deny her such simple pleasures? So, in the interests of enabling my lovely girl to do more of what makes her happy, I have been looking for wellington boots in a miniscule size which won’t restrict her newly acquired walking skills.
It’s harder than you think with most rainboots coming halfway up the leg and starting at a size way beyond the feet of my wobbly midget. But persistence and serious internet thrashing have paid off and these beauties are winging their way from Edinburgh as I type.
I know I need to get out more but aren’t they just divine?