It’s yard sale season in the Ohio Valley, and that can be both good and bad for me.

My husband, Mike, and I have slowly collected excess items over the past few months, anticipating that we would take part in the village of Belmont’s community sale day.

Well, that day, May 4, has arrived. We set up tables and racks and arranged a wide array of things for people to choose from. We will see how it goes.

Putting a yard sale together is a lot of hard work. Not only is there physical labor involved, but it can also be an emotional undertaking. You must decide: Can I live without that? Does it mean enough for me to keep it? Or do I want it out of my way?

For us, the effort isn’t about making a lot of money. Most items we have we would happily give away to someone in need. Instead, it is about making room — room to move, room to complete needed repairs and room for … more stuff.

That last part isn’t exactly true, but as I said, yard sales have their perils. My brother, Larry Compston, and his wife Marie started their garage sale on Friday. We walked over for a few minutes to see how it was going.

We left with a stack of CDs, DVDs, a crock and an old toy of Larry’s that I used to play with.

How could he part with a 1960-something G.I. Joe space capsule anyway? Well, it’s mine now.

I grew up spending Sunday mornings with my dad, the late Jim Compston, driving through the countryside to flea markets and yard sales. Dad had a real knack for buying just about anything for a quarter. I learned a lot on those early morning jaunts — and not just about bargain hunting.

There’s something special about wandering across the region looking for that special thing that I couldn’t (or wouldn’t) afford at a store.

As an adult, though, what I have leaned is that I should avoid yard sales and flea markets most of the time. Those deals are just too good for me to pass up, even if I am buying something I absolutely do not need.

And that just leads to the need for me to host yet another yard sale.