Saturday, July 14, 2012


Today was our annual neighborhood garage sale event. As a rule, the offerings were pretty standard stuff: last year's bestsellers in paperback next to stacks of self-help and old romance novels, piles of tiny pastel baby clothes, culls from toyboxes and closets (who wants to buy old sweaters in July? not me!), and enough sets of mismatched drinking glasses to help slake the thirst of an army on the move.

Dave and I walked from street to street, surveying every driveway's collection with mild interest. It was past noon and the best things had probably already been sold hours ago. There was a faint note of desperation as homeowners pointed out the things they truly did not want to have to haul back into the house at the end of the day.

Imagine my surprise and delight when at the second to last yard sale I found a pile of Pendleton wool with a $20 price tag for the whole lot. I didn't even dicker, I just gathered it into my arms and sighed happily.

None of the pieces are terribly large. The plaid at the bottom is maybe four yards and all the rest are a yard or less. But that's enough for a pair of stockings, or a hood, or half of a parti-colored tunic or coat. There's enough to make a bag, or a hat, or -- well, all sorts of things! And it's all lovely, soft, 100% wool. I am pleased.

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