I'm just now recuperating, but the INSIDE of my home will need a few weeks. I can't find a single thing! Linens in the living room and bookcases in the dining room. I also "hid" a bunch of valuables in case people needed to use the restroom, and have no idea where they are. I have a long history of cleverly hiding things: once in college, I "hid" my plane ticket home in an album cover and it took a frantic 4 hours to find it. I thought that was ancient history, but.... I digress.
As a nod to all my TX grrrls, I dragged out my barbed-wire Howdy sign (which, of course, sold). It's a curse of us junkers that we're inexplicably anal about our displays. No one at a tag sale gives a hoot what the sale looks like. I did, however, get many compliments that my sale "looked like a store" and that it was the best-looking sale in the 'hood. No diaper genies on tarps or 8-track tapes dumped in the driveway at my house!
This isn't even all that I put out; there's newer and larger pieces to the left of this photo (sofa, '40s dinette, newer Pottery Barn table and sleeper loveseat, and killer dresser with big mirror) and even more to the right (all the garden/wrought-iron/rockers).
Not to mention the porch, with the mantel, frames, mirrors...
... and my stash of pennants!
To be honest, I only sold probably 85% of what I have. I'm taking a ton of it to consignment, and some will inevitably end up in my shop, or I'll have to break down and complete some of the projects. Ugh.
All in all, though, it was a blast, if a frenetic one. Loads of bloggers and invisible friends (bloggy buds) showed up: Karla and birthday girl Beth (who'd I'd been dying to meet) were visiting from KC. Robin showed up to shop and "visit" her Bradylicious dollhouse. Coddy, Michel, and some local dealers also scavenged. I thought Coddy and Michel might put up a catfight over a bag of vintage metal letters, but they were quite gracious. It's hysterical to me that all the aforementioned women bought the "good" stuff (ephemera, linens, and tchotchkes) that would've wended its way to the alleged etsy shop!
I even had a "proxy" visitor: Katherine's MOM came as her ambassador, since Katherine lives in Chicago! All the visitors are the best part of a sale like this. I also got to meet 2 neighbors who I'd never met. The junkers and the gay boys came out in droves!
As you know, I caved and bought the mantel/shelf that another Robin had asked if I could sell for her. How could I pass this up? Her price was completely fair, and you can now visit it in my shop. Assuming, that is, that it's lasted more than 36 hours....
So there's the G-rated version of the tag sale. I'll not go public with the R-rated version, which involves near-constant pre-sale adult language and blood, as well as post-sale consumption of adult bevvies.
Lowlights included getting yelled at by drive-by old coots at 6:23, 6:44, 7:50, 8:08, and 8:29 who were vein-popping and spittle-flinging outraged that I dared to not be open yet. Seriously. My next sale will have a "no early birds and no old coots" sign. Just because your incontinence causes you to wake up at 4:15 a.m. and your greedy desire to finance your retirement by selling yard-sale items on ebay compels you to pre-dawn drivebys, doesn't mean that this late-night-loving hoarder needs to open before she's taken a shower and had a Red Bull.
There. I think I've got it out of my system. My next sale just might start at 10 P.M. when us civilized chickies are still going strong.
As far as I can tell, nothing was stolen or broken. I also received an email from a customer who wants to come back and get the pink motel chairs and wicker settee, and on Sunday night another dude came by to buy something he'd seen. Still selling 24 hours later. Then again, the curbside shop is still open for business! Garbage day is tomorrow, so come and get it while you can.
After the sale, it took me a sloooow 4 hours to dis-assemble, as I was re-evaluating every item and needed to determine what's going to Goodwill, to consignment, to the curb, or *sigh* back inside. I'd just settled down with a drink, relishing the thought of doing NOTHING on Sunday, when the shop called to tell me that 2 of my larger pieces had sold so I needed to re-stock. Good news and bad news, eh? Can't a junker grrrl take a day off?
I certainly made enough money to make it worthwhile, but the act of purging and buy-back of some precious space in my home, as well as a now-empty large storage unit (which I now need to cancel before I'm tempted to fill it back up again) made it a successful sale.
But I'm mighty glad it's behind me.
