Watt Page?


The fun thing about yard sales is that you never know what you’ll find or who you’ll meet.

I hadn’t found a decent book all morning.  Then we free-styled our way onto Page Street.  It had been a novel idea to drive over to that part of town.  I walked away with a couple of nice little golden books.  They had no name on the cover or coloring inside the boards.  Thanks, Page Street. 

Now if we could just trip upon a “Diamond-in-the-rough” avenue, we’d be all set.

We weren’t prospectors but we did make sure we went all the way down Prospect Street.  It was a busy thoroughfare and was known for garage sale activity all summer long.  I didn’t find anything for myself but I did find a crate of local lore that I knew my baby sister would love!  She had the related bottles but she’d been at a loss to find their crates.  I spent more than I usually do at a yard sale but it was worth it to get her the perfect birthday present.

One street over was Watt Street.  I couldn’t believe what we learned over there.  First of all, the prices were 1980 yard sale prices.  It was unbelievable.  After I looked at the first few items of interest, I told myself they were giving this stuff away.  The masking tape price tags were a clue but I had to know the story behind this house.  I asked when I bought my two large leather primitive decorations for $2.  The young man in the garage was wanting to save money to buy his first car and pay for the registration.  He was certainly getting quick money.  It was a busy area and people were walking away with armloads.  His motivation was heartwarming.  As we climbed back into our car, we overheard the young man tell his friend, “that he hoped his mother didn’t mind him selling her ‘extra decorations’ “‘.  Yikes – that was a heart ache. 

It was also heart breaking to call my sister’s cell phone.  I learned she’d since bought the crate I’d found.

We certainly hadn’t known what we’d find starting out.  Watt Street Mom might not find much once she got home.  My own mother and I had another page to our memories.   

Now I just had a crate to resell.