The Greatest Purge I’ve Ever Purged

Sunday night, Scott and I collapsed onto the couch, a little sunburned, totally exhausted, and really, really happy.

Nope, we hadn’t spent the day at the beach.  (Not that you thought we did, since I bombed pretty much every form of social media available with news of my purge) We had an epic, massive, awesome Yard Sale.

Let me remind you again of the proven science behind cutting your crap.

{via unconsumption}

And it is no joke.  We were on such a crap cutting high, that we decided to go balls to the wall and do a SECOND day on Sunday, which enabled us to witness full blown GARAGE SALE WARS in action.  The early birds descended with piles of cash, collectors eyes, and enough factoids to make you want to hang yourself from the Hammock chair you were trying to unload.

{Seriously, one guy spotted our classic cruiser in the carport (about 100 feet from him) and pinned it as a ’64 Mercury Meteor — only two years off from it’s actual production date of 1962.  Another guy made his way into our basement to take a look at an old fridge, and I felt like I was on an episode of American Pickers with him sniffing around the few items we’d decided not to sell.}   Anyway, the whole thing was such a success, and by Sunday afternoon somehow with the intense purging that had continued over the weekend, we had more on the driveway than we’d started with despite having generated well over four figures in sales between the lot of us. (As a rule, I will not yard sale without Jessica and John, so I told them it was their birthday gift to me to spend their weekend shilling their crap over to our house.  Randi and Ange weren’t far behind, and the sale was more like an awesome hang out, complete with Sushi and Champagne by the time Sunday afternoon rolled around.)

I’ve got plenty to say about that come Purgeday Thursday (which returns this week) but until then, I leave you with Dee and my(‘s?) Yard Sale Style — complete with silk Ben Sherman cami I bought from Jess for a dollar and threw on over my American Apparel tank.

Man, I love hanging out with this kid.

Feed Me Seymour