MY FAVORITE GARAGE SALE

For those wanting to know how to make Annette's apron click here.

For those wanting to know the web site for the garage sale people click here.

Here are a few photos of the garage sale on Canyon Road in Provo, Utah. Next one scheduled for April or May. When I am notified or when I see their sign I'll let you know. If you are really interested go the first day as the good stuff goes fast!

You know how I love chairs. This was a sweet one and following are two pressed back chairs--they didn't photograph as cute as they are.
This was my favorite item there. Actually, there were two of them. They were seven feet, six inches tall! They were sold the morning of the first day. Naturally. Many people are there the minute the garage sale opens the first day. Hillary needs a mirror but this one was gone by Saturday. There were several children's tables. So cute. So sold.On Thursday I took Pam. On Friday I took Cindy. On Saturday I took Hillary and Shan. Next time I will notify my whole ward as I'm the Relief Society communications person and this is communication they need, don't you think?

THE GARAGE SALE PURCHASE

Yesterday Gilmore Girl and I went to Costco. Well, we started for Costco. We saw a garage sale sign and thought a little detour wouldn't hurt. And then we saw another sign, this time advertising furniture. That won't hurt either, we thought. An hour and a half later (or maybe it was two hours) we left the second one.

I didn't take one stinkin' photo. What is the matter with me? (Don't answer, I don't want to know.)

The people who run the garage sale buy things at other garage sales and refurbish them. They paint most things black, white, red or teal. Really, darling stuff. They hold a garage sale three times a year. The next one will be in October. Watch for it at 56 something something Canyon Road in Provo, Utah. It's almost to the end of Canyon Road, before the Peay Ranch.

I saw a chair I wanted. I sat in it after I tired of waiting for Gilmore Girl. It was comfy. I left it there because I didn't want a divorce have enough chairs in the garage already.


I did make one purchase. Two purchases. Ten cents each.

I am the last of the big time spenders.

We never did make it to Costco. And Gilmore Girl had to do some creative things with a bungee cord to get her sticking-out-of-the-trunk purchases home. Really cute things. Except there was no darlingest-ever chair.

THE GARAGE SALE PURCHASE

Please don't tell Phil as he is still not over the Chair Fairy incident. I know he will love it--once he calms down.

He will calm down. Won't he?

THE CHAIR FAIRY--PHIL'S POINT OF VIEW

I went to the mailbox and on the way back I saw two chairs in front of the garage door. Now whom do they belong to, I wondered. I’ll bet Lynne has something to do with it.

She knew all right. She bought them at a garage sale...oh, excuse me, a trunk sale--at Thanksgiving Point, mind you. As if anything bought at Thanksgiving Point was a good idea. And excuse me again; she said the "Chair Fairy" brought them. Did she think I would be charmed by her winning smile and adolescent cleverness? Not today.

She thought the chairs would be great to add to the garage full of junk we already have. Not today. Not tomorrow, either. Not ever. We need to start getting rid of the junk, not bringing more in. When will I ever convince her of that fact?

So we had a quiet discussion about the off chance that we did not need more junk. She did not think it was a quiet discussion. She said I was yelling. I do not yell. I am focused. Very focused.

Finally, in a pathetic little voice she said she'd give them away. That did it. The pathetic little voice gets me every time. I think she was serious too; she'd give them away.

The chairs went to the garage, next to the four black ones with the rush seats. Who knows when they were added to the junk-filled space that I laughingly call a garage. The chairs do come in handy. Not as handy as six folding chairs would be, six folding chairs that match, but folding chairs would be the sensible thing. No one ever said my wife was sensible.

"Here, son,” I say. “Sit on this chair. It's nice and sturdy."

I see her smile. She thinks she’s won and that I think her chairs are a good thing. I’ll let her keep her illusion. I guess I’ll continue to scrape ice off the windshield all winter while all her chairs—and who knows what else she has squirreled away in the garage--have a nice dry home.

I’ve decided to try and make my mind think that folding chairs are overrated. I might as well as there is another grandbaby on the way and the toddler grandson will have to give up the high chair for a real chair. I have a feeling that Lynne is keeping her eyes open for one—not a sensible folding chair but a sturdy, interesting one that doesn't match any of the six we already have.

I think I'll go take a nap. Or get on the roof and blow something off with the leaf blower. Blowing things off the roof makes me feel like I'm in charge. And the view isn't so bad, either.

THE CHAIR FAIRY

Several years ago, when I was anticipating that we were going to have Thanksgiving dinner here, I went to a Trunk Sale at Thanksgiving Point just to see if they might have something irresistible that I could use. A Trunk Sale is like a Garage Sale but people bring things in their cars and, in some cases, had backed up and opened the trunks to show their wares. We walked around--my daughters and daughters-in-law--and soon I spied something I anticipated we were going to need. Chairs! Sturdy ones.

My daughter's comment, "What will Dad say," deterred me not one bit. I bargained--well, I'd like to say I bargained but in reality I probably just happily paid the price the owners asked. Ten dollars, for two. When we got home and unloaded I put them right against the garage door, out of sight of the front windows.

"What are you going to do about Dad?" Hillary asked.

"After Dad goes to bed I'll sneak them into the back of the garage. When we need them for Thanksgiving he'll be glad."

"Right," Hillary said.

"He will," I said. "He really will."

She just shook her head, got in her car and drove away, waving with a little smirk on her face. A smirk that clearly said she didn't have much faith that her dad was going to be glad. She thought he was going to say something like, "More junk!"

It's not junk, I thought to myself. And he WILL be glad. I know it.

That was the last I thought of the chairs and my clever plan. The next day, when Phil brought in the mail, he also brought in an attitude.

"What is in front of the garage?" he said, in a not-quite-normal voice.

Great, I thought. I forgot all about them. And what a dumb question. Anybody can see they are chairs.

"Chairs."

"I CAN SEE THEY ARE CHAIRS?! AND WHERE DID THE CHAIRS COME FROM?"

"The Chair Fairy brought them." How clever I was to think of such an amusing answer right on the spot. I smiled.

That was a mistake.

"THE CHAIR FAIRY? THE CHAIR FAIRY?! ARE YOU OUT OF YOU BLOOMIN' MIND? WE DON'T NEED MORE JUNK IN THE"--he didn't say a four letter word but I know he wanted to--"GARAGE. WE DON'T NEED MORE STUPID CHAIRS. ARE YOU CRAZY?"

Now how do you answer a question like that? No, not crazy. I am clever and thinking of the future. And besides that, chairs don't have the capacity to be stupid. I thought I might point that out to him but one look at his face made me decide against it. I shrugged. Another mistake.

Have you ever seen someone with fire coming out of their eyes? It's a real experience. Everyone should experience that at least once.

He had a few more choice things to say, but by that time I was overwhelmed by all his non-appreciation of my good bargain and of my clever "chair fairy" comment and all I heard was "BLAH, BLAH, BLAH."

Finally I said--in my most humble voice, "I'll take them back."

Now, I knew I couldn't take them back but I figured I'd find someone to donate them to. Anything to get out of having to hear "blah, blah, blah." And being expected to come up with an answer to, "Was I crazy?" one more time.

Well, the end of the story is that he calmed down--after about three weeks--and the chairs reside in the garage with the other chairs I've bought at garage sales--those I successfully snuck into the garage and could say, "Oh, those chairs? I bought them ages ago." Some times the things you bought "ages ago" deflates the frustration that husbands might have over frivolous purchases. Not that any of my chairs have been frivolous purchases, mind you.

The last time we had a family dinner here I overheard Phil say to one of the boys, "Here, sit on this chair,"--one of the Chair Fairy chairs--"they're nice and sturdy."

I wanted to say something but didn't. No sense in reminding him that I was right and he was wrong. As long as one of us knows it, that's enough.