Last year, my friends and I volunteered at a community garage sale. I love garage sales; finding neat knickknacks and even greater prices. I volunteered last year, but this year the volunteer coordinator didn’t reply to my email in time (I shouldn’t be surprised, she very, very rarely replies to any of our emails), so I decided to just take the day off to go to the garage sale.
I was pretty excited to go to the garage sale; last year, my best friend Jennifer and I had bought a ton of books after we finished volunteering. Of course, the carrying of the books home in a cardboard box wasn’t so great. We ended up collapsing in exhaustion on somebody’s lawn while that somebody stared at us suspiciously. Cue the hysterical laughter that often comes over extremely weary people and we were pretty sure that guy thought we were high. But we weren’t, really.
This year, I went with my younger brother Kyle. He was grumpy at first, since he hadn’t been able to sleep in, but all his sleepiness evaporated when he found a typewriter for five dollars. I ended up buying a whole box filled with books, two decorative clay jars from a tiny pottery village named Korond in Romania, a blue jar which had come from England, and some new napkins. And a PIZZA STONE—how could I have forgotten about the glorious pizza stone? I was elated when I saw a next-to-new pizza stone at the garage sale because I had been looking for one to bake bread (and pizza) on for a while.
I assumed that these jars were vases, so I had placed flowers in them; I changed my mind when I realized that the water was seeping out of the clay and staining my kitchen countertop an unsightly yellow colour. I guess these jars are truly for decoration purposes only.