To yard sale or not to yard sale...

...that, apparently, is the question.

I have a lot of crap. Well, crap is a relative term, but in the grand scheme of things, I have a lot of stuff in my house that is now crap to me. Stuff that's just taking up space. That I never use. That has sat in a blue Rubbermaid tote in my basement since the day we moved in, and that I haven't even given a second thought to since.

Crap.

I have picture frames and candlestick holders and vases and all sorts of miscellaneous clutter makers that I have, over time, phased out of rotation. Where once they had a place of pride on a dresser/shelf/entertainment unit, they now are completely out of sight, but not quite out of mind.

I'm no minimalist (by any stretch of the imagination) but I'm getting a bit consumed by the increasing clutter that's taking over my home. It's insidious....kinda like one of the many signs of the apocalypse. Forget locusts...I know Armageddon is upon us when there's no room on any surface in our living room for a cute new find from my local Homesense.

Something has gotta give.

It's so bad, I'm even ready to part with a good number of my purses.

Deep breaths, my lovelies. Fetch a paper bag, that will stop the hyperventilating.

Yes, what you read is true. I am finally ready to prune the purse tree and decrease the population of the pursery. Open season has been declared on my extensive collection of handbags. And I'm surprisingly okay with it.

We have so much stuff that we just don't use/need anymore. Sure, we have an unfinished basement to store it all in, but just knowing that it's full of STUFF haunts me. It's that little niggling thought in the back of the brain, the one that just won't let go.

But the detritus of my life has sung its last siren song. I no longer feel compelled to keep the funky table display photo album (that never was filled with photos) or the wire cat candle holder I procured years ago when said things were kinda cool.

Yes, that time did exist, thank you very much.

But those times have indeed gone, and I find myself filled with a rapt wonder at what my house (and therefore life) would be like if all of these dusty remnants of times gone by were to finally leave the nest. Be gone. Sent off into their next lives with someone who can truly appreciate their wire cat wonder-ed-ness.

Here's the kicker.

I don't come from a long line of yard/garage sale folk. The entire scene is somewhat foreign to me. I know not how to advertise, choose a date/start time/end time. I don't know how much stuff we could truly fit into our wee single car driveway (ah, the curses of new subdivisions).

But more importantly...I don't know if garage sales are 'done' in my neighbourhood.

I don't think I've seen one in action in our little subdivision in the entire time we've lived there. Then again, I haven't really been looking for them, but they sure haven't jumped out either.

I wonder what our neighbours would think of us if we were the first to break into garage sale territory. Would others follow, delighted in the fact that someone else broke the community cherry? Or do we risk an ole fashioned shunning for hocking our crap for all the world to see right there in the heart of their suburban bliss?

Strikes fear in my heart.

I considered asking my neighbours if they might be interested in doing one on the same day. Would increase traffic, and there would be safety in numbers. And yet....these are my next door neighbours. If they're not up for it when I suggest it, we'll always have that undercurrent...the 'ew, she wanted to have a garage sale. Yes, a GARAGE sale. Can you believe it?' vibe that can't easily be cleansed from our relationship.

Out, damn spot. Out, I say.

Maybe I'm over thinking this (huh - really?). Maybe I just need to do a bit more research, check my paper for other listings, that kinda stuff. And I'm sure there's a Garage Sales for Dummies book that I could get from Chapters - they have those for everything now a days.

And hey - if we actually do go ahead with it, I could always suck the knowledge out of the book, then turn around and sell it to some other neighbourhood shmoe who's about to embark on the same crazy journey. Sounds good to me!

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?