Yard Sale

This is a Sunday Story.  No politics here, just memories from a yard sale.

Storage Addiction

Like a lot of Americans, we fell “prey” to the “sweet seduction” of storage.  Back in 2012, we first rented the space as a place to put all of Mom and Dad’s remaining furniture when we closed out their lives:  first their assisted living apartment, and then their house in Cincinnati.  There was no reason to have all that furniture and boxes of memorabilia there, so we U-Hauled it all up to Pataskala.  

Then, when the furniture was apportioned out to the family, there was all that open space. It wasn’t in our garage, or even in the shed behind the house.  It was out-of-sight, but only a couple of minutes away.  By 2015 it was no longer “Dad’s” storage, it was ours.  And we filled it, 200 square feet of old furniture, boxes of papers, the books and  pictures from my last office, boxes never unpacked from Jenn’s last move, left over T-shirts  from meets, and whatever.  

And for the next eight years it grew.  All of the stuff that went in the camper, went into storage when five dogs ended our “camper days”.  We added more old furniture,  and our son Joe’s collected stuff from college apartments and almost annual moves here in Columbus.  And then, Joe moved to California, leaving a lot of “good stuff” that couldn’t make the trip. After that, we could barely close the door.

Find Joy

We pay storage rental for a whole lot of things that were important to us; once.  

Marie Kondo had an “improvement show” called “Tidying Up”. Her tag line phrase was , “Feel the item in your hands, and if it sparks joy, keep it”.  There was a lot of stuff that was no longer “sparked joy” in storage, all for $140 a month.  It was time for a yard sale!!

We know how to “throw” a yard sale.  That was the big fundraiser for the Watkins Cross Country team for decades, literally tons of stuff from the team families, all piled into my garage during the spring and summer, then dragged out in August.  The aprons, stickers, and money rolls were all still in the steel “strong box” that was stashed in a container in the garage.  So we got together with the neighbors next door, and we had a garage/yard sale!

U-Haul was still involved.  It took two truckloads from storage to bring all of the sale items back to the house.  And there was lots of “clearing out”, first our garage (there was stuff in the rafters for the early “00’s”), then our backyard shed (the nine foot Christmas tree that five dogs made obsolete), and then – the storage itself.  And, naturally, it was the hottest day of the summer on “moving day”.   Finally, for three days, it was time to say goodbye to things that once gave us joy.

Bomber Jacket  

When I was a kid, I loved watching TV shows about World War II.  One of my favorites was called “Twelve O’Clock High”, a show starring Robert Lansing about American bombers flying out of England to attack Germany (it was also a great 1949 movie starring Gregory Peck).   Ever since then, I wanted a leather “bomber” jacket.  I got my first one just after high school, when wearing my Wyoming Letter Jacket (I still have it) went “out of style”.  That made it into my thirties, when I finally needed a “skosh” more room.  My second bomber jacket made it forty years.  It was my go-to “cool” jacket from November to March, a sure sign that winter was here.

But the zipper was worn, and I needed more “skosh” in my older age.  It spent the last couple winters in the closet.  I got a new one last Christmas, leather and fur and roomy. So my old bomber jacket went in the sale. I watched it go out of the garage on the shoulders of a teenager, smiling from ear to ear, even if the zipper was sticky, and he didn’t know how to “pop” the collar.  He didn’t have the “style” yet (I almost got up to fix it), but it’s got a new life.  

Camper

And there was all of the camper gear.  Jenn and I bought a camper in 2017 and spent a winter in Florida.  But health problems interfered with the next couple years, and then there was Covid.  And finally we went from one dog to five, and there was no room with five dogs.  So we sold the camper in the summer of 2020, but kept a lot of the gear.  We were going to get a bigger RV, one that all the dogs could travel in.

But that never happened, and the camper gear didn’t “hold joy” anymore.  It all went in the sale.  The night before, I had a fluke conversation at the Hardware store. The cashier showing me pictures of her “former” camper, exploded from a faulty refrigerator.  Luckily no one was in it, though it burned out their detached garage.  She was picking up her new camper on Saturday, and needed almost everything from kitchen utensils to sewer hookups.  And we had them.  She and her husband came over and our camper “stuff” got new life.

Backpack

But the biggest “regret” of the sale:  I sold my backpacking equipment.  I hiked the Rockies and the Appalachians, on my own, with friends, and of course, with Scouts.  I had some of the best equipment I could get, a Kelty Pack, a North Face tent and down sleeping bag; the stuff needed to get me over the next mountain to that night’s campsite.  All of the stories, from bears to rattlesnakes to the attack of the raccoons near the Kangamangus Highway in New Hampshire, were wrapped up in that gear.

But track and field took up all of my free time.  Instead of trekking mountain ridges, I was taking kids to National meets all over the country. And then there was my health, just the “price” of getting older, that made single treks less appealing.  And finally my “gear” was stashed in the rafters of the garage, more than two decades since my last excursion.  Backpacking through the wilderness was a part of my past, but not my future. 

My good down bag became a home to mice.  But the tent and the backpack were still good, and I put it  and the compass, stove, and canteen all in the sale.  A  man bought it for his grandchildren, just entering Scouting.  It’s more equipment than they can handle, but I hope it encourages them to find the joy of the wilderness as I did.  It was a reality shock when he picked up my hard-earned gear, and walked away.  No more frozen mountain camps in June in Colorado, or “billion” star nights on a ridge in New Mexico.  

Life Changes

And there were bins of artificial flowers, the remnants of our wedding back in 2012.  Jenn and I threw a great party, and had a great time planning our wedding together.  The flowers were wonderful; we decorated Salt Fork Lake Lodge so well that what didn’t come home stayed up on their walls for years.  But our fall wedding was definitely a one-of-a-kind thing.  I hope the lady who bought them puts them to great use.

There’s lots of empty plastic bins in the garage.  The rafters are empty.  The backyard shed is clearer than the day after it was built.  There’s still lots of memories to get out of storage, but the monthly bill is strong encouragement to get it done.  We’ll get rid of some, then absorb the rest into storage here.  There’s more to just saving money here.  It’s about a changing life, and finding new joy.

The Sunday Story Series

Author: Marty Dahlman

I'm Marty Dahlman. After forty years of teaching and coaching track and cross country, I've finally retired!!! I've also spent a lot of time in politics, working campaigns from local school elections to Presidential campaigns.