Choices, Choices.
The season is already drying up, and my enthusiasm is dampened, so I choose the "sure thing", an "Antiques and Collectibles" sale at Foothills United Church, 1 bus away, starts at 10:00 AM.
I'm first on the scene at 9:15 and sit down to read my book. Slowly the dealers arrive, trickling in...
You listen to them talking, one went to the Lakeview parade of garage sales, but gave up, "too many dealers" she said. She's a dealer too, but it doesn't stop her complaining.
Inside, a few scant tables, mostly littered with old Avon bottles, a couple of pieces of Medalta, some cool Uranium glass, with it's peculiar luminescence, but at $75.00 apiece I'm not tempted. There are as well folk-art styled "Antiques" from "Granny's Attic", wood trays stenciled with flowers and hearts and made to look old but really only succeed in being tacky. There's no jewelry or watches, no cigarette cases or lighters, lots of Toby mugs, loose plates, generally speaking a heap of rubbish.
From there across to the WIN in Bowness, no treasures today, then home, a dealer in conversation had dropped that there were no lottery winners and so I check my tickets, the cats dead, there's a Harley Davidson Rally on Memorial Drive, 100's of bikers with their police escort (because they need police protection?), and then back home.
This pretty much ends the worst season of garage sales ever. I put it down to my job and lack of car.