Season for garage-estate sales
It may not look like spring yet, but it won’t be long before the snow melts and yard sale season begins. If you’re thinking about hosting a sale this year, now’s the time to start preparing so you’re ready when we can finally see green lawns again.
The first thing to do is check the regulations on yard sales in your area. In some places, like Beaconsfield, a permit is required, while in other areas like St-Lazare, yard sales are only allowed on a few specific weekends in May, June and September.
Since you’ll draw more buyers if you have multiple garage sales on your street, this is a good time to talk to your neighbours to see if they’ve also been thinking about having a garage sale.
Although it’s best to wait for better weather before holding your sale, decluttering, sorting and cleaning of the items you want to sell can start now.
My favourite garage sales keep things simple: a table of $5 items, a bin of $1 items, and a few special things priced enticingly low. If you’ve got something of value to sell, try listing it now on an online classifieds site or an app like Varage Sale. If it doesn’t sell by garage sale day, you know you’re asking too much.
After all, garage sales aren’t really a great way to make money when you’re taking a loss on every item you sell. They are, however, a clever trick to get people to pay you for the privilege of taking your junk away.
Going garage sale-ing is one of my favourite things to do in the spring. Not only can you stock up on fondue pots, mismatched china sets, exercise bikes, ski boots, wild-haired Barbie dolls, vintage magazines and other treasures, but you can also explore neighbourhoods you may never have noticed before. Sometimes you’ll even get a surprising glimpse into the way the other half live.
Last year, I took an impulsive turn off Côte- St-Charles St. in Hudson, after spying a sign for a garage sale on a nearby street. The address led to a private driveway almost hidden by an enormous privacy hedge. The driveway was so long it should almost be called a road. It led to a dignified stone house in a parklike backyard oasis, complete with a tidy little bridge arching over the kind of pond Monet would have loved to paint.
Just as I began to wonder if I was accidentally trespassing, I saw at the end of the driveway the garage doors were rolled up. A variety of woodworking tools, glassware, linens and other brica-brac was neatly arranged on folding tables inside — all priced to sell.