Field Notes: Garage Sale Haul

Garage Sale Haul: October 8, 2026

Garage sale season is winding down here in Indiana. The signs are disappearing. The folding tables are being put away. People are apparently deciding that October is a perfectly reasonable time to stop selling their old junk in their driveways. I DISAGREE WITH THIS DECISION.

Garage sales have been pretty sparse lately, so I was honestly surprised to find any listed for today. But I found two. And I had a plan. One of the sales was being hosted by a friend who always has great stuff. The minute I recognized the address, it went straight to the top of my list. PRIORITY NUMBER ONE.

I knew I needed to be there when she opened. Possibly before. I'm not saying I was going to camp in her driveway, but I wasn't ruling anything out. The second sale was a moving sale in a subdivision near my home. Two sales. Simple morning. Very manageable.

On my way to the first stop, I noticed another garage sale sign pointing into a subdivision that had hosted several "second chance" sales the previous weekend. You know the kind. They already had a sale earlier in the year, but they're giving it one final attempt before garage sale season officially dies. I made a mental note to drive through after my first stop. THE PLAN WAS TO LOOK. We all know how reliable that plan is.

Stop One: The Friend With the Good Stuff

I arrived just as my friend's sale was opening. And as expected, she did not disappoint. My first find was a beautiful old hand-hewn wooden dough bowl. Wonderful wear. Gorgeous patina. The kind of piece that makes you stop and appreciate how something so simple can become so beautiful with age. IN THE CAR.

Then I spotted something really special. A child-size antique Singer Model 20 sewing machine.

Oh, she's wonderful. A tiny little sewing machine with years of wear and character. I have no idea if she works, and frankly, I don't care. She's going on a shelf in my sewing room. SHE IS NOT FOR SALE.

Sometimes the dealer becomes the collector. It happens. Frequently.

My third purchase was a vintage Crispo Graham Dainties biscuit tin dating to the 1930s. Blue-and-white stripes, fabulous advertising graphics, and in pretty good condition considering it's approaching its 100th birthday. I can only hope I look that good at 100.

Three excellent finds, and I was off to my next adventure.

Stop Two: The Sale I Almost Didn't Visit

Remember that garage sale sign I saw earlier? I decided to loop back through the subdivision for a quick look. My plan was simple. If it was one of the repeat sales from last weekend, I would keep driving. No need to revisit a sale I'd already shopped. But as I entered the subdivision, I spotted another sign pointing toward a dead-end cul-de-sac. A street that hadn't hosted a sale earlier this year. WELL, HELLO THERE.

Suddenly, things were looking promising. I pulled up and headed toward the garage. Before I even made it inside, I spotted a box of large pinecones. Now, I realize I live in Indiana. We have trees. We have pinecones. But these were particularly large pinecones (she said they were from South Carolina), and they would be perfect for decorating my antique booth for Christmas. BUSINESS EXPENSE. Into the pile.

Yes, I had already started a pile.

Then I walked into the garage and spotted some vintage children's books. I bought all of them. Because apparently my ability to resist vintage children's books remains nonexistent.

Next to the books was a vintage Barbie paper doll set. ADD IT TO THE PILE.

At this point, I was starting to realize I'd stumbled onto a really good sale. The more I looked, the more interesting things I found. And the prices? ACTUALLY REASONABLE. A refreshing development.

I found three bunches of old wooden hangers, many with advertising from dry cleaners, clothing stores, and hotels. I love these old advertising pieces. They're little survivors from businesses and places that may be long gone. A few even have wonderful hotel names printed right on the wood. ADD THEM TO THE PILE.

• 

• 

Then I spotted an old framed military group photograph. I've sold several of these types of panoramic photographs over the years. I love the history, the uniforms, the faces, and the stories we'll probably never know. This one was coming home with me, too.

My final purchase was a dried gourd birdhouse. It's rustic. It's charming. And I know it'll find a home at one of my selling venues. PILE COMPLETE. For now.

As I was paying, the woman mentioned that she was so glad I'd seen her sign because she hadn't advertised the sale. Wait. WHAT? You mean I stumbled onto an unadvertised garage sale filled with vintage treasures at great prices? I DIDN'T KNOW WHETHER TO THANK HER OR APOLOGIZE TO HER. Because apparently I can now locate vintage junk without any advance notice whatsoever.

It's a gift. Or a condition. The medical community has yet to weigh in. I loaded everything into the car and headed to my final stop.

Stop Three: The Moving Sale

I'll keep this brief. OVERPRICED. That pretty much sums it up. There were a couple of vintage Pyrex mixing bowls and a child's wicker chair that caught my attention. Unfortunately, the prices did not. I am a proponent of people pricing things as they see fit. But I don't have to buy it! I have to leave room for a profit. And sometimes the smartest purchase is the one you don't make. So I walked away empty-handed. No regrets.

Not Bad for Less Than an Hour

And just like that, my garage sale expedition was over. Less than an hour from start to finish. I found a beautiful old dough bowl, a tiny antique Singer sewing machine for my personal collection, a nearly century-old advertising tin, vintage books, Barbie paper dolls, advertising hangers, a military photograph, a gourd birdhouse, and Christmas decorations for my booth. I also managed to leave an overpriced moving sale without buying anything.

And because the whole adventure took less than an hour, I still had plenty of time to accomplish other things today. Which is good. Because there is still a rather impressive amount of vintage inventory waiting to be cleaned, researched, priced, and delivered to my booths. Apparently the work never ends.

Neither does the hunting.

Take the back road. Find the good junk.