As I was clearing off the kitchen counter this morning, (in preparation for making the day's lunches), I had to move the treasures I picked up for family and friends at the parish yard sale. Of the many boxes of must haves I scurried home with, only a pair of sailing motif glasses for my dad, and a candy dish and mug for Mr. S. are not in their proper homes. Soon.
Envisioning both parties relaxing on a Saturday afternoon, watching the game, enjoying a drink, or dipping into the candy dish, I smiled, as I reflected on the glee I felt when I discovered these, and other discarded treasures. And then quickly my thoughts moved to my grandfather, who with my grandmother worked their own parish "rummage" sales for many years.
Like ours, theirs was in the fall. So our arrival for Thanksgiving at their house was an event of wonder and surprise. You just never knew what Nana and Grampa were going to find at the sale. Games, clothes, camping gear, silver, jewelry. You name it and I bet we got it at one time or another. Pots, pans, a brand new coat -- with tags. The pair of Italian lamps that still illuminate my living room. Goodness for all.
And I can still see Grampa's face as we literally dove into the boxes that covered his living room floor. His eyes shining an extra bright blue. His lips turned upwards in triumph over a rummage sale well picked over.
Like my grandfather, I suspect we took home more from the yard sale than we dropped off... Like my grandfather, I can't wait to share my findings with those that I love.
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