How do you put a price tag on memories? That’s what I wondered this past weekend as I sorted through years of treasured clutter that I thought I couldn’t separate with only later to see dollar signs flashing as I prepared for my garage sale.
For the third time in my life, my home became a mini mall. The adage, “One man’s trash, is another man’s treasure” is wrong. My treasure is another person’s trash. They’re not willing to pay for the sentimental value.
I must confess, however, there were a few moments when I wasn’t very sentimental myself, like when I sold a microwave for two dozen tamales. I posted this on Facebook and a friend, Sharon Sisneros-Duran chided me, saying, “You’re not supposed to spend money at your own garage sale! You’re supposed to make money!”
In defense, I responded, “The microwave was $20 and the tamales were $10 a dozen. A girl’s gotta eat!”
In another memorable garage sale moment, a neighborhood kid determined to spend money asked what 50 cents could buy. I helped him choose a paperback on Selena. When I told his sister, she asked, “Selena Gomez?” I said, “No, Selena the Tejano singer.” She just looked at me blankly, sending a loud and clear message that I’m so old school.