I never knew garage sales were such a big deal, until I moved to a small town where there's not much else happening on Saturday mornings in the summertime -- and then I, too, became addicted.
Five years ago I moved to a garage sale mecca. I’d never paid much attention to garage sales in the past, but I quickly realized that, in this little town on the eastern shore of Lake Huron, they are one of the main summer attractions.
Starting on Tuesdays, when the weekly newspaper comes out, there are new listings for all the next weekend’s upcoming sales, with tantalizing descriptions of the goodies on offer. By Thursday, bright-colored signs plaster the streetlights and telephone poles of the town, featuring “Garage Sale!!!” and boldly printed addresses. Early on Saturday mornings, particularly on the long weekends, the streets are busy with cars moving like hounds on a scent trail and excited people infected by the thrill of the treasure hunt.
I remained intrigued but clueless about how addictive garage sales can be until my friends Christine and Laura invited me out one Victoria Day weekend in May, the biggest garage sale weekend of the year, to show me how it's done.
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