About six years ago I began a wonderful Saturday morning tradition of wandering around Farmers Market at Cabrillo College parking lot. I reveled in the feeling that I was transporting myself to some colorful Irish village marketplace where I could taste before I purchased and hold my money in my hand rather than in a cumbersome purse and wallet. I loved chatting with the farmers, the nursery folk, the other shoppers, the friends I don't see on a daily basis, and a myriad of strangers who shared this spirit of friendliness and delight.

I might sample orange segments before committing to several to enjoy at workbreak during the week or taste some cherries while deciding whether a small or large basket would keep me satisfied. I also regularly gathered an armload of pink and purple gladiolas which usually provided me with an opportunity to meet new people as I slapped into them with my oversized load and apologies.

Nearly two years ago I invited my friend, Sue, to enjoy this morning adventure with me. We made our selections of the best fruits and veggies to add to the bouquets we needed to make it through the week. Sue started to begin her routine for Farmers on Friday evenings when she washed and cleaned her vases anticipating the bouquet choices and purchases.

About a year ago, we switched from the race to be among the early birds at Farmers to having coffee first and discussing the trials of our teenage children, coworkers, bosses, how long our flowers had lasted before keeling over or evolving into an algae study. When we got to Farmers, we were well laced with caffeine and took to buying a loaf of warm Franchese. We would rip off warm chunks to enjoy as we strolled. Our sweatshirt fronts were freckled with crumbs and our cheeks were smeared with the extra flour from the bread...and we loved it all! Even when people said that they wanted to take our picture as we were, we laughed and knew life could not get much better than this.

Last month Sue took a class in the techniques in pique assiette; the art of creating objets d'art from broken dishes. Because this is a popular craft in Santa Cruz, chipped dishes are somewhat pricey. At the same time, my sister, Eileen, called me to share new adventures and treasures she found garage sailing. She indicated that dishes in Healdsburg were nearly free and she'd be happy to shop for Sue.

After looking at various piqued pieces, I thought 'this is something I can do, too'. So on a recent Friday evening, Sue and I drove to my sister's to actively participate in garage and yard sale haven of Healdsburg. On Saturday morning even before 8am, Eileen had the newspaper marked. She urged us to get ready faster, eat more quickly, drink our coffee in the car, and for me to drive FASTER, but to be prepared to STOP on a dime when she said "Stop!!"

After we got warmed up on five or six yard sales, Eileen rode with the sliding door of the van open so she could jump out and get to the best treasures faster. Eileen was showing us the techniques which she had made routine: we learned a new way to shop that Saturday. Our minds had stretched beyond anything we anticipated: the body language nuances of bartering, the looking through boxes ignored by others, the necessity of quarters.

Now Sue and I meet for coffee early on Saturdays because the sales start at 8:30am.or 9am and cruise the neighborhoods looking for "the good stuff." It has been a while since we have tasted the fruits and veggies. Sigh.

We are building an inventory of chipped and broken dishes though so we can produce pique assiette art and sell it for grand prices. I have begun to design T-shirts for us to wear as we create our art and then I can branch out into Who- Knows- Where.

Along the way I have learned lessons in the etiquette of this garage sale compulsion:

-do not snicker at the Elvis on velvet;
-do not park directly in front of the garage, your car may be sold use American currency;
-do not return the following year claiming that the 1000 piece puzzle is missing one piece;
-do not ask for baby-sitting while you check out the treasures a few doors away;
-don't ask the junior entrepreneurs for half a glass of lemonade for half price. They will be the workers at the nursing home where you may find yourself tapping your toes to the symphony version of "Louie, Louie."

Sue and I have been secretly garage sailing on the Saturday mornings when we were usually found at Farmers Market. I have not shared this with anyone but Eileen and now you. Friends and coworkers say, "I guess I must have gotten late to Farmers and missed you. What time were you there?" I give vague and doubtful blather in reply. I question myself as to why I need to be so secretive.

Two weeks ago my Mom gave me a bag of chipped dishes from her signature set of dishes, the Apple Pattern, for Sue for HER project. I was not able to tell Mom that I wanted to make her something out of those chipped dishes. She would be horrified. One does not use chipped dishes for any reason. Important Rule for the Lace Curtain Irish.

Last Saturday, Sue and I met for coffee, then scooted off for Farmers with a hidden agenda of shopping at the Hospice Parking Lot Sale also being held at the college parking lot that day. Yes, we did Farmers, but with the shallow interest one has reserved for sock sorting. When we found a partially closed big box of chipped dishes under a table, our eyes lit up like Jake's and Elwood's in the Blues Brothers. "A Find," we telegraphed to each other.

When I asked about the dishes, the lady informed me that all of them were chipped or cracked. I asked how much she wanted for them. This woman spoke a little louder to Sue who was standing behind me and emphasized that ALL the dishes were chipped or cracked. Sue said that was not important for our purposes. So she gave us a bewildered Buyer Beware warning and shrugged when she said one dollar. We had gotten our bargain !! And we were giddy and high with the thrill of it!!

I have switched obsessions...this is hard to admit.

I know that I have the potential to switch again.

Someday garage sales will fade into the shadows of my life and my fetish for something unknown to me today will reign my life and organize my time.

I wonder what it will be?

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