Yard sales & tall tales…

When I was growing up, there was a Saturday morning ritual of driving around town to yard sales. 

If I was given $5, I had to restrain myself from spending it all at the first one.  People held them on the first weekend of the month when people “got their checks” or on Tannehill trade day weekend in hopes of higher traffic.

Next weekend, on Saturday, the 17th of June, 2017, you are cordially invited to attend the yard sale of Cheryl Acker Dodson & Crystal Moore Phipps from 7am until to be determined by Alabama heat and humidity.

It will be held at my home which is located at 50 Rotenberry Lane, Woodstock AL, 35188.  Dress is casual and so is the conversation, not to mention the prices.

I have recently redecorated with the finest thrift store furnishings and I would love to give you the Grand Tour and a cup of a coffee.  I have begged Shea Acker for a tomato pie and I may make some lemonade for later in the day.  Who knows what I may add to the menu or guest list by next Saturday. 

If you are up for a little drive, hospitality and a good deal, head my way.  

Crystal is my childhood friend and knows all of my secrets.  (Please don’t ask her for any because she loves to tell them almost as much as me.)  A lifetime of laughter and memories is held between the two of us.

I love the opportunity to have an excuse to talk and meet new people and send you home with a gently used lamp and a good story.  I am sure you can understand that John B. McLemore and S-Town have made for good conversation around here lately. 

Crystal and I have taken him to Tuscaloosa and welcomed him in more than one of my homes over the last twenty years. 

One unrelated story he would have appreciated was the summer that we appointed ourselves caretakers of the Smith Hill dearly departed cats and dogs.  We buried them and stood over them and grieved, whether we knew them or not.  It is a precious childhood memory of love and loss.  So you may call me names like self-righteous, but just so you know- I have preached a few cat funerals.

Don’t laugh! (and come see us), I have been comforted by the kindness of many of you and would love to return the favor,


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