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Posts Tagged ‘garage sales’

At last writing I was getting ready for a garage sale. I can’t tell you how many of these I’ve orchestrated over the years. Neighborhood sales are the perfect way to get rid of all that stuff you haven’t laid eyes on since Reagan was president and a nice way to get to know your neighbors and make new acquaintances.

My daughter and I woke up at 4 a.m. Saturday to get things set up. Thankfully they had electricity over the week, where I did not due to the PG&E outage, so she was already ahead of the game. Traffic around her area was totally impacted on my way to her house the previous night. I believe the mass of vehicles was because they live in Roseville, a northern California city about twenty minutes north of Sacramento, which is a major shopping hub for the Sierra Nevada foothills residents. Many people living in the mountains and lower foothill communities were without power for multiple days. Though living in the tall trees is a lovely place to be, if you’re looking for malls and the larger chain stores you will not find them up there. Presumably the endless lines leading into the big box stores as I made my way down one of the main drags was a direct result of people needing to replace spoiled food lost during the outage. I know in my refrigerator unless you can come up with a recipe using catsup and ice, you need to look elsewhere for your dinner plans.

Garage sales to me are reminiscent of the outdoor markets popular in medieval times where people congregated to buy, sell, or trade their items. Not to say I have first hand knowledge of such places. I am getting a bit long in the tooth but not quite that long. However, from what I’ve read about feudal communities back then, these markets were a place for people to gather and exchange goods and services, pass on news from one village to the next, and sell their produce or livestock or perhaps barter in exchange for something they themselves needed.

At most garage sales you price items low but a little above what you would secretly hope to get for them. People like to dicker. Makes them feel, or it does me, like I’ve gotten a bargain. However, I have to say I never cease to be amazed at the need for some people to haggle on an item originally purchased for $90 now on sale for $3 still unwrapped and in the box. Do we really have to have an offer and counter offer on such an item? One lady wanted to buy a brand new blender marked at five dollars for $1.50. It works perfectly and I offered to plug it in and pulverize an apple if it would ease her mind as to the condition of the appliance. Now bear in mind she drove up in a very expensive Mercedes sporting Ferragamo sunglasses and carrying a Michael Kors handbag. Somehow I didn’t get the impression she was sweating where her next meal was coming from. She went on to explain she only had $2.00 and wanted another item marked $3.00 for $.50 to complete her purchase. Wow spending the whole wad at my sale. Really? I was terribly tempted to give her a brochure from the local food bank I volunteer for in case she could avail herself of their services, but held my tongue and watched as she packed my blender in her trunk along with what appeared to be dozens of other purchases. Uh-huh. Truth is it’s not that I’m an easy mark, but I went there to come home lighter and with that intention in mind I accepted her generous offer with a smile and tucked the $2.00 in the till. Later I found the rubber o-ring for blender on the floor behind the display. Karma, as they say, is a well, you know. I would have happily forwarded the part to her if I knew which street corner she was carrying her sign on.

Between the three of us in the garage we all did our share to unload the bounty. My daughter was born to work with people. She has a warm and welcoming personality and would take off her shoes and give them to you if she felt you didn’t have any to wear. The expression “she never met a stranger” definitely applies to my oldest child. A cancer by birth, she throws herself into her interactions with fellow humans with passion and verve and has an innate sense about people paired with keen intuition. I, on the other hand, am a scorpio. Though hardly a shrinking violet, I am a little more cautious when meeting people, being more likely to size them up first before approaching. Once comfortable though I am very good at working a crowd. My son-in-law for his part just wanted to reclaim the half of his garage that has been storing all my excess household goods as well as my mother’s and their own so would happily have packed up the whole kit and kaboodle in the back of any taker willing to drive off with them. Between the three of us we managed to talk to lots of interesting people while unloading about 3/4 of the items by the end of the day. Yay.

I am glad the garage sale is behind me. The past two weeks have been an exhausting blur of activity and I am pleased to see another to-do item completed. Slowly the left side of my list with numerous items to be accomplished by the close of the year is whittling down to a more manageable size. Perhaps there will be a day coming up where I can put my feet up, pour a cup of pumpkin spice tea, and catch up on my book marked at the same page since my mother broke her hip.

Sounds like I’m complaining, but I’m really not. I’m grateful for every day I have with my mother. She has been there for me and I will always be there for her. Someone told me the other day I had good manners. Automatically I attributed that to being brought up in a household where manners were considered an integral part of everyday life. Thank you Mama. Thank you for so many things you have taught me over the years. Certainly to be strong is at the top of the list. The women who shaped my life were all strong in their own way. My two lovely aunts, my grandmothers, and my mother each brought different things to the table for me to draw from.

The bit of self indulgent whining is only tired feet and a tired mind. Taking care of yourself is a big enough job in this unsettled and complicated world but adding another person to the mix makes the job two fold. Sometimes even when performing a service with love, you need to give yourself a pass if you occasionally get cranky or wish you could just crawl in the closet with a bag of Double Stuf Oreos and close the door. Nobody can be everything to everybody every day. Can’t be done. All you can do is show up and do the best you can, remembering to throw in a little self love here and there for good measure. Take a breath, pick up that book, and if even if just for a moment draw in some deep cleansing breaths. The glorious thing about life is that whatever you are going through right now will not always be the template for the way your life looks. This, like so many situations, is only a temporary state of being.

I have learned so many things about myself over the past year since Rick passed away. I can stand alone, perhaps sometimes on wobbly legs, but I am standing. I wake up every day and do my best to make it count even if it’s only in small measures like cleaning my house or pruning my flowers. As the months pass I have recovered my joy again and a renewed interest in living a full and fulfilling life while I am here.

So here’s to clearing out the clutter both figuratively and literally. To starting fresh and traveling lighter.

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
Any direction you choose.”
………Dr. Seuss

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final
Another garage sale is in the bag, literally. I am done for this year and quite possibly for next year. This was a community wide sale. Well advertised by our H.O.A., the early birds arrived as the rooster crowed on Friday. By noon the big items (outdoor furniture, chairs, quilt sets, etc.) were packed in the backs of buyer’s cars making their way on down the line to pick up more bargains. Thankfully I did Friday because Saturday we had four people for the entire day, all men. I have nothing against men. Mind you I quite enjoy them, but not at garage sales. They are the perfect customers if you have electronics, cameras, tools, sports collectibles, or sports anything. You know, manly stuff.  When they see my collection of teddy bears, rocking chairs, kids clothes and household goodies the blood literally drains from their faces. I can’t be sure but I believe I saw one man actually cross himself before hightailing it up my hill. SORRY. I’m a girl. Well, actually I most probably haven’t been a girl since the Beatles “Hard Day Night” hit the streets, but I like being female and I’m not afraid to show my girl muscle when the situation arises. I did have one tool (a small electric drill).  One man asked to see it and when I held the small pink power drill out in my palm he looked up at me over the rim of his glasses as if to say “Are you kidding me. I am looking for tools not something to fix the Barbie Dream House.” It was a gift, but whatever, fine.

We don’t have a lot of tools these days. Well, we have the basics, screwdrivers (Phillips and flat head), a hammer, a level, an assortment of wrenches and a very rusty drill that only turns on when coached with platitudes. Hey, I made it through the 80’s armed only a butter knife and my guardian angel to keep me one step away from electrocution. Rick looked at the cord to my upstairs vacuum the other day with disgust. Asking me what was up with the electrical tape wrapped tightly around several worn spots I explained that I’d run over the cord a time or two and thought the electrical tape would keep me from harm. He walked away mumbling something about being amazed I’d made it past thirty. Well, here I am, Cookie.

In the 80’s I participated in a circuit of art and wine festivals and craft shows in Northern California. When in the midst of this endeavor I had an entire booth which broke down into easily stored parts, a huge canopy, and a garage full of top-line tools to help my partner and I create a lot of wood crafts (mostly garden variety) which we hawked at these fairs. I was the creative brains of the outfit, coming up with ideas for planters and window pots and painting the art on each as they came off the work bench. Once the idea was on paper he took my ideas and with his magic with tools turned them into actual items to sell. Along with the wood crafts I also fashioned aprons, pillows, dolls on my sewing machine, and sold printed tee-shirts and cards featuring my artwork. To keep things interesting, I also worked a full-time job allowing little extra time for anything else during that two-year span. Those were busy, busy days.

Burned out after my second season and in my personal life, my partner and I parted ways leaving me with a garage full of tools to get rid of. The tools, new when purchased, were well maintained and of excellent quality. Initially being my investment, they were also mine to sell so I ran an ad for a one-day sale tool sale in the local paper. The sky was dark the Saturday of the sale. Drinking my coffee in the kitchen I remember thinking as the rain began to fall nobody was going to show up. The gods proved me wrong and within a half an hour cars and trucks began to arrive. One after another they formed long lines on either side of the street. So thick was the testosterone hovering in the air I could feel the hair on my legs begin to grow. By 8:00 my driveway was teeming with men. It’s raining men, comes to mind here.  Seems I’d hit the mother lode. Who knew?  Note to self: “Run an ad for power tools next time you’re short of masculine attention.” At precisely 8:00 I opened the door. The men stood in hushed silence absorbing the vast treasure lying before them. Agra couldn’t have encouraged more awe. The smell of sawdust and oil was like a new catnip toy for a playful feline. Beyond the entrance they beheld an entire room filled with jigsaws, band saws, table saws, routers, drills, and assorted hand-held equipment.  Life was good. Life was very good. Men in faded jeans with facial hair and ball caps swarmed over the tools like army ants over an unsuspecting cow. Fights broke out over drill bits, the table saw discussions got ugly, and several disagreements required a coin toss to settle who was to take the item home. Two hours later the only reminder of the tools originally housed there were dusty outlines on the floor. The men were happy, I was happy, and my kids had a great Christmas that year thanks to those tools.

Since then I’ve reverted to my original ten tool philosophy. In truth I’m the only one digging in the tool chest. Rick is not one to slap on a tool belt, being more of a Ferragamo man when it comes to belts,  and I’m just as happy. We all have gifts and he has many, but tinkering isn’t among them. My stepfather was a tinkerer and this always led us down a slippery slope usually involving an unnatural disaster and an expensive visit from a professional to clean up the mess. The only thing I remember about his buckling his leather belt with the tools dangling from it is that it directly correlated with cocktail time at our house even if lunch hadn’t been served yet.

So today I loaded up bags of household items left on the table and went to Goodwill to pass them on. I feel thirty pounds lighter.

This is my version of tacos al Pastor without the hassle. I have gone through the whole process before including making my own tortillas but since I’m getting ready to head out of town and had a craving, this was a delicious and far easier option. Rick can have leftovers while I’m gone.

Crockpot Pork Tacos with Grilled Pineapple

1 onion, sliced thin
3 lbs. peppercorn pork loin
1 Tbsp. Hot McCormick Taco Mix
1 cup orange juice
3 cloves garlic
1 Chipotle chile in Adobo sauce (chopped)
2 tsp. Adobo sauce
Pinch of cinnamon
Juice of 1/2 lime
1/2 fresh pineapple sliced in 1/2″ slices
8 flour tortillas
Queso Fresco
Sour cream
Avocado Slices
Lime slices
Mexican Rice (optional)

Spray 6 quart crockpot with cooking spray. Slice onion and line bottom with it.

Rub pork with taco mix. Place pork on top of onion. Mix together remaining ingredients except pineapple and add to pot. Cook on low for 6 hrs. Shred with two forks. Squeeze lime juice over top and mix.

Brush pineapple slices on both sides with olive oil. Heat grill on high. Grill 3 mins. on each side until grill marks appear. Core and slice into strips.

Black Beans

2 Tbsp. olive oil
1/2 cup onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
1/8 tsp. red pepper flakes
1 15 oz. can black beans, drained and rinsed
1/3 cup water
2 Tbsp. chunky salsa (I used hot)
Salt and pepper
2 Tbsp. cilantro, chopped

Heat olive oil in skillet over med-high heat. Add onion and cook until translucent (about 6 mins.). Add garlic. Cook 1 min. Add cumin, oregano, and red pepper flakes and cook stirring constantly for 1 min. Add beans, water, and salsa and cook stirring frequently 8 mins. Salt and pepper to taste. Stir in cilantro.

To make the tacos

Preheat grill to high heat. Quickly heat tortillas turning once. (1-2 mins. per side). Roll in tin foil and place inside plastic bag to keep warm.

To assemble

Place a generous portion of pork on tortilla. Top with portion of beans. Top beans with crumbled Queso Fresco and a sprinkling of chopped cilantro. Serve with lime wedges, sour cream, salsa, and sliced avocado as desired.

Serves 4

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I’m in heaven. Not figuratively, of course.  In truth, I’m not quite certain I have a reservation at that establishment in my name. Our garage sale was a success, it’s over, the leftovers are sorted for donation or family, my feet are up, and my other half is taking care of dinner. Life is good. People at garage sales interest me. I specifically requested “no early birds” in my ad and that the sale would be open 8-2 only. Apparently they could read the words garage sale but the no early birds part left them confused. On opening the door at 6:30 to let some air in I found eight people staring back at me. Fortunately, they were dressed. Unfortunately, I was not. Clad in boxers, a t-shirt and fuzzy slippers I made my first sales before my first cup of coffee. Seeing this as a selling ploy, my other half suggested I keep that attire, as things were moving off the shelves. As we had quite a bit of furniture for sale on the lower levels, I brought in some muscle in the form of my daughter-in-laws younger brother. Rather than bringing everything up the ramp on the side of the hill, which, unless you’ve got your cardio up-to-speed could put you in the hospital or in a decorative urn on the fireplace, I opted to take pictures of each item and post them on a large board along with prices and details.

It amazes me the mentality of garage sale shoppers. I understand that they are expecting a bargain, and certainly I don’t put unrealistic prices on my items, but if I put the Mona Lisa out there on an easel with a price tag of $12.50 someone would ask me if I’d take $5.00 for it and throw in the lettuce spinner.  Also, people buy the oddest things. Personally, I put everything out there no matter how bizarre, someone  won’t be able to live without it. This time I included a large basket filled with miniature shampoos, shower caps, soaps, etc. brought home over the years from hotels all over the continent. My other half thought this was ridiculous. There’s one shower cap and a small bottle of coconut hair conditioner remaining. Who knew? Having some separation anxiety over the loss of a few more treasured items, it’s a big sigh of relief to have that lava lamp I last plugged in in the late 70’s residing on someone else’s end table, and substantially less left to pack.

Last night I was so tired I just dropped into bed breathing deeply before my hair connected with the pillow case. Family members were coming over to sort through the remains in the garage, and the cat sensing a possible invasion of small children being imminent, joined me, however, underneath the bed. My other half and I are a strange pair. I’m a total morning human. Alternately, he’s a creature of the night. For us, as we spend a good deal of time together, this is a win-win. We rarely tire of each other and each enjoys a little alone-time in the mix. Another bonus is that the man snores like a drunken Russian sailor, so I am usually asleep before the nasal serenade commences. Wisely, the cat vacates her coveted spot at the end of the bed around 2:00 a.m. when the lord of the manor comes to bed lest she get caught up in the vortex of a large inhalation and be lost to us forever. Along with the deep breathing, is the additional bonus of the noise. I’ve heard the expression “sawing logs” but never realized it referred to doing so with an industrial chain saw. OMG.

Because it’s disturbing to his sleep as well, the doctor prescribed a Bi-Pap, which is a machine filled with distilled water that pumps air through his nose to stop the snoring. The Bi-Pap comes with head-gear and a long hose attached which is attached to the machine itself. When attached it makes the snorer look like an extra from a bad Star Wars knockoff. When on, it is somewhat of a miracle, eliminating the need for the constant bouncing and clearing of my throat that I resort to when it’s not in place. If you share a bed with a snorer, you know what I’m talking about here. If you slightly disturb their sleep patterns you can usually find a narrow margin to get back to sleep before the cacophony begins again.

To add to his interesting repertoire of sounds during the night he throws in an occasional nightmare or night terror just to keep things interesting. These are accompanied by thrashing and yelling, and, as it happened last night throwing a jab or two in the direction of his bed partner. I’m used to this at this point in our lives, and it certainly keeps the late evening and early morning hours from getting humdrum and repetitious, but can also require the use of a helmet and protective gear. Ah well, I wouldn’t trade him even for a lettuce spinner.

Anyhow, hanging out and being lazy, I send off this easy and delicious recipe for garlic bread for you to try. It’s my favorite, and I’m serving it as a side for the baby back ribs I’m cooking over the weekend.

Garlic Bread with Spinach

2 large loaves of ciabatta bread
8 cups of spinach, rinsed and coarsely chopped
4-6 oz. of sun-dried tomatoes with herbs (packed in oil)
2 Tbsp. olive oil
3/4 cup butter, softened
6 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Cut each loaf of ciabatta in 8-10 slices cutting down to bottom but not completely through the loaf so still connected.

In mixing bowl mix together spinach, olive oil and sun-dried tomatoes. Set aside.

Mix together softened butter and garlic. Spread on bread slices. Spoon in spinach/tomato mixture mounding slightly. Srinkle 1/4 cup of Parmesan over top of each loaf. Wrap tightly in aluminum foil.

Place on baking sheet and bake for 20 mins. or until completely heated.  This would probably be amazing cooked on the grill as well.

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