Saturdays are yardsaling days at my house. We are not hard-core yardsalers, or in other words, we don't get up at the buttcrack of dawn to hit the road. We head out after a leisurly breakfast and try to find new roads to drive down. In our area of town we can just as easily find a fifties-era neighborhood as a farmhouse with a pond in the back. Recent Saturdays have proved to be kind of stinky -- no great finds, not many people hunting, and if we have brought anything home it is the kind of thing that lingers in your head all day as you wonder, "Why exactly did I feel the need to waste 25 cents on that piece of crap?"
Today was different. G bought a small butcher-block style cutting board. I found what may be an old big pickle jar. I will be using it to store kitchen utensils on the counter, replacing an oversized and very ugly ceramic pot. Also, there were about 5 yards of decorator fabric. Gaudy, but maybe useful. And vintage kids records for j-po! Woohoo!
It is precisely these types of dream yardsaling days that make you go out again next week. Just in case.