An old habit renewed

When I was growing up, we used to go garage-saling every weekend. We’d get the paper and open it to the classifieds. Then my sisters and I would read out the ads to my dad, who would tell us if the addresses were too far away. We’d mark all the ones near enough, making sure to only mark the ones being held that day. All this while eating breakfast. Then we’d pile into the car and go from sale to sale. We didn’t need anything, but it was fun, and we often got small things or books or whatever.
This weekend, my friend Jean and I went garage-saling. I have a specific purpose this time around—I’m looking for furniture for the house. I’ve been to garage sales since I was a kid, of course, particularly during college—we furnished not only our rooms but the rooms of many friends with the pieces we found on those weekends. But it’s been a while, in part because our apartment is already over-full and we can’t fit much extra. Every time I go garage-saling, it brings me back to those youthful weekends, and the fun we had, traipsing from sale to sale. Even on the weekends we didn’t buy anything, we had a good time. And when we did manage to snag some bargain, we were thrilled. So far, last weekend, I managed to pick up a kitchen table, a rug, a secretary, a pair of end tables, a nice leather chair, and an old school desk. Plus a book and a pair of candle tapers. But I think it was the memories that made the trip really worth it.