The treasures in our driveways

Eileen White Jahn lives in Rockville Centre.

The little harbingers of spring are popping up all over. Every Saturday I count them -- one hardy specimen here, a few there, and finally they burst into full bloom. It's finally here: garage sale season!

Winter-weary, bargain-starved natives rejoice as they engage in that great Long Island-wide swap meet. My husband calls my "garage sale-ing" a sickness, but I see it more as a sport. It's hard to explain the appeal, but it has the strolling exercise of golf, the joy of the catch of fishing, the thrill of the Indianapolis 500 as you race from sale to sale, and the heady appeal of gambling ("Psst, honey, I think that's real oak under that paint!").

I can't help myself. No matter how cluttered my house is, there is something irresistible about somebody else's stuff being sold dirt cheap. I hone my technique, often performing a drive-by "sale-ing" to weed out the stinkers.

I particularly love the great exercise-machine exchange game. To play you must first purchase one new, overpriced and multifeatured exercise machine, the trendier and more expensive the better. Let it sit, unused, for a year (hanging clothes on it is not counted as use).

Then you have a garage sale where you mark it "Never Used $500." You eventually accept $25, just glad to get rid of it. In three months you will find yourself at someone else's sale offering $15 for "never used" machinery because you have completely forgotten why you never used your own.

And this game is not just limited to exercise machines! Any household item can play. The higher the original price the better.

Then there is the reciprocal joy of having your own garage sale. The noble feeling of decluttering your life accompanies you as you root around the house for all those things you don't use. You lose your mind and think things like, "Yes! Someone else will buy these disposable hospital slippers I only wore once!"

Then you get caught up in the frenzy and start price-tagging everything.

"Sweetie, I am wearing this sweater," my husband will protest.

I will patiently explain, "I'm not selling the sweater honey, I'm selling you!"

Inevitably you will accidentally sell some priceless heirloom because a helpful child placed it in the "Take anything for a quarter" basket. Of course you invite others to bring items to beef up your offerings. You will spend the whole day trying to keep careful accounts of all the exchanges. It won't matter because you will spend it all on fast food.

Then nobody wants to take back the stuff that doesn't sell, and you can't bring yourself to throw it out. As a result, the last time I had a garage sale, I actually accumulated more than I got rid of.

I know, I know, it's a zero-sum game. It never really is real oak underneath that paint. But you get out in the fresh air, you see the neighbors, and you never know what you might find in the quarter basket.