The yard sale was inside an elementary school gym. It HAD to be worth checking out, right? I wandered in, disappointed by the mostly empty tables I passed. Disappointed, until I got to the southeast corner.
My eyes gleamed happy little dollar signs as I took in box after box of brand name Tupperware that less discriminating yardies hadn't bothered with. I dug in, fingers caressing the nearly indestructible bowls and lids that we'll probably still be using at our Golden wedding anniversary. Eight big boxes of treasure that I looted alone.
As I loaded my arms, searched for corresponding lids, and dithered about tall and thin, or square versus round, the ladies in charge called out that since they were hoping to close up soon, the yard sale had just become my favorite kind of gluttony, the "Stuff a bag for a dollar" kind.
I wanted so much of it! Unfortunately, our kitchen is bitsy and would burst with indignation at being forced to house as much as I wanted to stuff into it. I limited myself to things I could think of an immediate use for. Mostly. There is that one green canister that I'm still looking at as it sits on my counter wondering how I can fill its timecard.
It must have a purpose, I just have to think of it. I mean, it's green! What could be more useful?