All that wonderful space is now in our garage, barn, and basement, which all look so much bigger and better than before. The result follows on our part in mammoth Fly Creek Yard Sale, a tradition that’s become a valued part of the hamlet’s life — not to mention a prod for procrastinations finally to hoe out rooms, corners, and closets, and make some loot, to boot.
And did we hoe! Anne and I, plus more than a little help from good friends Doug Zullo and Rich McCaffery, hauled up from the cellar’s darkness all the yard-sale stuff that didn’t sell last year (and mostly did, this time!), plus clinking boxes of wine bottles from our cidermaking days, plus a bunch of furniture that we two thought we might use again someday, but never did. From barn and garage came a parade of duplicate tools for garden and repairs, dating from Anne and my combing households fifteen years ago and then getting too busy to cull things out. And lots of guy-toys also came to light, farm and shop implements that I’ve used across my own twenty years here, and all the way back to when my dear Gwen and I bought Stone Mill Acres in 1977.
But now I’m too shaky to handle the bigger guy-toys safely, and it’s better for all that they go.
And did they go, as crowds closed in on Fly Creek from all the compass’ points. As I chatted up customers, I ran an informal survey. My gosh, they were here from Milford and Oneonta and Morris and Laurens; from Otego, Unadilla, and Sidney! From the north, they’d poured down from Schuyler Lake, Richfield Springs, Mohawk, Herkimer, and even Remsen. And a clutch of Uticans was in the crowd, too.