A friend recently tried to impress me with an overlooked factoid.

“Did you know,” she began, making sure she had my full attention, “That the expression ‘okay’ is the same in every language?

I wonder if ‘YARD SALE’ is almost as universal. At least in the Midwest, in my neighborhood, it seems to be the call of springtime.

Yes, in May, everything seems lush and green. Tall irises and tulips, in veritable rainbows of colors, seem to burst out of the ground at once.

But early sightings of blooms can be followed by cool nights, so I’ve chosen not to consider the season officially launched until homemade signs announcing ‘YARD SALE’ or GARAGE SALE,’ punctuated with directional arrows, appear at street corners.

I’m not big on shopping in general, but something about seeing my neighborhood decorated with such signs makes me happy.

I guess I like the thought of people doing spring cleaning; knowing that others have taken stock of their lives (in objects) and decided they could part with some things to make room for something new.

Maybe I also like the thought of people basically making money out of nothing. I like the idea that there can still be value in something that has already given years of service.

These yard sales can run the gamut in terms of quality of merchandise and sophistication of sales methods.

Often, old metal folding tables will be piled with designer handbags, which a member of the household paid too much for years ago and won’t be able to offload now at their asking price.

Sometimes, items will be meticulously tagged with prices (to lend a head start to the inevitable haggling process), and at other sales, untagged items seem to suggest a more casual attitude about the process. A table of unmarked salt shakers, for instance, seems to beg Make me an offer.

Sunday, my neighborhood was full of signs, full of sales. Having one day a month or in a season for lots of people to run their sales makes the area a good destination for yard sale adventurers.

As I roamed around Sunday, I saw an abundance of kid clothing and toys. Not of particular interest to me, still, I like the idea of finding new homes for things in good condition. The bikes, or Onesies® on display were simply outgrown.

I like how you are expected to bargain. Maybe I would try to reach a deal if I was buying a car, but there are few situations in our culture when negotiating the value of something feels appropriate.

It’s kind of funny to haggle over a few dollars (or pennies), but it can be fun to play the game. A buyer has to ask herself, What’s it worth to be able to call it mine? For a seller, the question becomes, What’s it worth to get rid of it?

Shopping is a completely different experience when you don’t have an agenda like you do when you have to buy something to wear for a wedding or need to replace a water heater. Buying something at a yard sale is about wanting to have something, not about having to.

But the thing I like best is the incidental conversations that spring up as you peruse the merchandise. It’s hard not to look at Flintstone jelly jars (juice glasses), or Dora the Explorer lunch boxes, or Andy Williams Christmas albums, or even ashtrays from Bob Chinn’s Crab House and not want to swap stories about growing up or dating or house moves.

Finding the memories of your life in someone else’s garage or on their sale table is no small thing.