My passion for rummage

I grew up in a small town without streets. Everyone lived far apart from each other on roads. We all knew each other fairly well- if folks weren't related to each other, they went to the same church, or had kids in school together, or worked together at the one major employer, a medium security juvenile prison.
We didn't have garage sales. There was no "drive-by" traffic. No Sunday paper for ads, no stop signs to nail directional arrows to. Also, since we all knew each other, a garage sale would pose too many social risks for both seller and buyer- for the seller: Your kid's teacher gets to see your video collection. Everyone knows what size pants you wear. Your friends can see if you're the kind of fella that takes good care of his tools, or the sort who lets his chainsae chain get dull. And for the buyer: If you bought this blouse, could you wear it? What if people recognized it as so-and so's? Dickering would be out of the question, as it would make you seem rude and/or cheap.
Now I live in a town with neighborhoods. Garage sales are abundant. I can't get enough! I've got plenty of crap, trust me. My husband reminds me all the time, "We really don't have a use for other people's crap, dear." But I really love to go, it's like a treat. A novelty. Like being able to ride my bicycle to the store.
Today as I was driving my daughter to school, I saw the first garage sale sign of the season, in a nice, established area of town. Retired folk garage sale, the best kind. I said a silent prayer of thanks... I was wearing pants and a sweatshirt this morning instead of the usual pjs and bathrobe. I could be among people.
I dropped Madison off and returned to the sale.
I found a 4 qt Corningware casserole with a lid for a dollar. Score, I need pots. Behind it was a beautiful vintage orange enamel over cast iron 4 qt oval roaster. A dollar! I think I will take a picture of it for Sunday. I love that pot.
On my way out, I saw a handbag that appeared to be leather. Now, I have a thing about purses- If they are going to look like leather, they should BE leather. No pleather. Due to this "thing" I only have one real leather purse, which my mom handed down to me. It's more like a giant amulet than a purse, really. She never used it, and neither do I- it's just not functional. All of my other purses are canvas or nylon or fabric.
I picked up the handbag, the Coach tag was still attached. The leather is about a half inch thick- they must use the cow's knees or something. I paid $2.50 for it. It's worn, but I'm going to see if I can get it refurbished. It's a station bag from the 80s.
I should post pictures of my treasures, and tomorrow I may.
I also think that during the summer I may feature unusual garage sale items here at CBL. I have seen some kooky stuff.