Archive for the ‘Misc. Griping’ Category

So I was on my way to work this morning, and this minivan started tailgating me. They were close enough for me to see who the driver was, and it was a very determined looking older woman. I could see she had at least two other relatively older women in the minivan with her. I’m not used to being tailgated on my  serene county road by anyone, let alone a demographic that is not known for offensive driving.

When I got to town, I realized what the rush was about. There was a garage sale at the local community center. People were swarming in like flies to a carcass. Now it made sense. With the unseasonably warm weather this year, the sales are starting early, and this is one of the first big garage sales of the year.

For those of you who are not privy to the cultural nuances of Wisconsin (or the Midwest in general), there are four season openers that mark the arrival of spring. There’s Fishing Opener, (one of the few times any acting governor bothers to acknowledge that the state exists north of River Falls), Planting Time (mostly for farmers, but we all get the consequences of smelly fields, and the rewards of yummy food), Construction Season (only a happy occasion for people who make their living doing it), and Garage Sale Season.

Garage Sale Season is big here because so many of us are afflicted with LCS, and the idea of paying so little for what someone else paid so much for, well, it’s exhilarating. The bragging rights (although extremely understated when recited) alone are just priceless. “See these (fancy-smancy name brand here) jeans? Got them for a dollar.” It’s probably a bad thing that this passive-aggressive behavior is rewarded and perpetuated, but it is usually a symbiotic relationship. Normally people have garage sales to get rid of crap. If those jeans are taking up space in your drawer because they don’t fit, or they aren’t your style, they’re not doing you any good, right? Make a buck and get that space back.

Unless you just happen upon a sale (which is not that unusual), there is a method to garage sale-ing. If you can only do one day, normally it’s Saturday. You have to start early because the good stuff is usually gone by 10:00. Most sales start at 8 or 9. You scan the local advertiser, take out your trusty road map (if you’re hard core, you could be covering two counties, maybe fifty miles), and map in order of which sale is closest to you. Then off you go. I always hope that I find at least something at each sale because I perpetually feel guilty if I have to walk past the poor person who went to all the trouble to set up the sale and I didn’t find anything. I at least try to smile and tell them thank you.

When the economy is bad, sales usually suck. It’s inevitable. Part of that problem is interior designers made garage sale-ing trendy. Suddenly everyone thinks their crap is special and expect you to pay for that specialness. They seem to have forgotten that you put on a garage sale to “get rid of stuff”. Making any money is secondary.

Oh, and in my opinion, it’s bad manners to bargain at a garage sale. I will not sway on that. If you are doing it right, garage sales are an exhaustive undertaking. You have to sort stuff, price stuff, clean up areas to display stuff and hide what you’re not selling. You have to advertise, put out directional signs, get a cash box together, set up a place to put the tags so you can count up the money at the end of the day…you get what I’m sayin’.

Someone went to a lot of trouble to put that price on that item. Unless the proprietor of the sale has decided that it’s getting late and there’s too much crap left, at which point it becomes “half off the tag” or “a dollar a bag” (like chum in a shark tank, if you have LCS), the price is what it is. I know you want to try out the skills you learned at that market in Mazatlan, but it won’t be welcomed here. Sure, we’ll smile politely, but secretly your brazenness will be scorned, and we will be cursing your name amongst ourselves before you leave the driveway. Consider this fair warning. Happy Sale-ing!

Ooh, it’s that time of year again. That funny part of spring where I’m just itchin’ to tear up the ground and plant things.

I know it’s too early, waaay too early, even though this March is unseasonably green. The typical spring (which is a laughable adjective to use in NW Wisconsin, since we almost always seem to lie smack dap in the middle of the jet stream, and temps can have a range of 100 degrees difference in only three or four months) is a witch’s tit cold February, a wet, snowy March, and a muddy April until the frost heaves sometime around Easter. If we’re lucky, people up here can “tentatively” start planting after Mother’s day, but nothing “frost fragile” until after Memorial weekend.

I’ve worked at greenhouses before. It’s one of my favorite jobs because I love being around plants about as much as I love being around books. Greenhouse season in this neck of the woods is short. You start preparing the plants at the end of April. You start selling plants very slowly in May. You sell like crazy for the first two weeks in June. Everything goes on clearance for the last two weeks in June. By the Fourth of July, the season is done. That’s it. It gets too hot to keep a greenhouse open at that point. Everything that didn’t sell is so leggy, you can’t give it away. The rest goes in the compost bin.

The new house the husband and I purchased in January used to be a rental, so landscaping is minimal at best. It looks like the pile of leaves that take up half of the driveway (and finally just thawed out) have been there for so long, they have turned to soil underneath. I see a bunch of vines on a rickety fence that borders the neighbors that look suspiciously like Virginia Creeper. Yuck. If you want to hide from the neighbors, it’s perfect, but you better be committed. Virginia Creeper is so virulent that you can rip it out, leave it on the pavement in the hot sun with no water, and it will happily just sprout and grow where you left it. It scoffs (anthropomorphically speaking) at Round-up.

There are two huge cedar trees on either side of the house. They were probably cute little shrubs when the house was built 70 years ago. Now, they look like they’d be more at home in a cemetery. Everywhere else is fabric and river rock. This yard is just screaming (anthropomorphically again) for some color.

Funny thing is the garden and seed companies are fully aware of the mania to garden prematurely. That’s why all of the catalogs start showing up in February. It’s mean, really, because even if you jump the gun and order your stuff now, they won’t ship it until “your growing season” starts, which won’t be until May.

So, that means, I’m pretty much resided to pace the yard, and dream…or finish my book. What a novel idea.

The librarian there, Norma, has been very up on things. I’m trying to get us a two hour window to get down there. I was a little late for St. Croix Falls, and I don’t want to make a habit of that. One of my best friends will hopefully be able to make it. If she managed to guilt anyone else into coming, well that’s just gravy. Don’t know what to expect for turnout. Read aloud to myself ad nauseam today. Probably will still screw it up, but it’s usually funny when I do, so whatever. Just gonna try to have fun. If you’re in Somerset, come check me out, or see where else I’m reading.