What are the most important things needed to live a good life?
What would the Yard Sale Queen say?
“Darlin’, it ain’t about diamonds or daiguiris – it’s about deals. A good life? That’s when you awake up on a Saturday with gas in the truck, a strong cup of coffee in one hand, and all the yard sales pinned in Google Maps from Facebook Marketplace.
Give Me:
A box of mismatched china for a dollar.
A dusty angel figurine with a cracked wing that still makes me cry.
And a table labeled “FREE” that holds a piece of someone’s history just waiting for a second chance.
Oh, and family. My husband, my son, and my dogs-because what good is finding treasure if you ain’t got someone to shout “LOOK WHAT I FOUND!’ to?
What are the most important things needed to live a good life?
Here are ChatGPT’s top 10 things it thinks we need to live a good life.
🌻 1. Love (with a capital L) Not just the romantic kind, but love in its many flavors—loyal dogs that follow you room to room, my partner of 31 years is still making me laugh, friends who know your weirdness and stick around anyway. Love gives life its warmth, its reason.
🛠 2. Purpose Whether it’s writing songs, raising kids, or rummaging through garage sales like it’s a treasure hunt ordained by fate—purpose gives me a reason to get up, even on gray mornings. It doesn’t have to be grand. Just real.
💰 3. Enough (but not too much) I don’t need to be rolling in riches. Just enough to be safe, fed, and occasionally treat yourself to something joyful—like a vintage lamp shaped like a goose wearing a bonnet. (You know that’s a good find.)
🧠 4. Peace of Mind That quiet space in your soul where you’re not at war with yourself. Forgiveness, self-compassion, learning to say “no” without guilt—these are the unsung heroes of happiness.
🫂 5. Connection To people, yes—but also to moments. To the way sunlight spills across my porch. To stories that matter. To old songs and new dreams. Without connection, life is a long hallway echoing back nothing.
🎨 6. Creativity & Expression Whether I’m writing lyrics, painting, building, cooking, or dancing in the living room with the dogs—creativity is how we process the chaos and sprinkle beauty over it like glitter on a kindergarten art project.
🌳 7. Health This one’s sneaky. We forget it until it slips. Physical health, yes, but also mental health—the kind that lets you breathe easy and sleep through the night without carrying tomorrow’s worries like a backpack of bricks.
🙏 8. Gratitude Not forced “silver lining” stuff—but a gentle noticing. “Look at this,” you whisper to yourself. “We’ve made it another day.” Gratitude softens the hard edges and makes even the simplest meals feel like a feast.
🎭 9. A Little Mystery Some dreams left undone, some roads not taken, a sense that life still has surprises for you. Keeps the spark burning.
🎶 10. Stories Yours, mine, the stranger’s on the bench. We’re made of stories, and living a good life means telling yours with honesty, heart, and maybe a few unexpected plot twists.
Now, if I could bottle that up, I’d put it on a shelf labeled “Essentials for a Life Well-Lived” right next to the glitter-globe collection and the sacred cookie jar that never stays full for long. What would you add to the list?
When I was in elementary school, there was a contest in the class for our grade to write a short story and make it into a book. I think I was in 3rd or 4th grade. I can’t exactly remember but I do remember that I didn’t not win anything. The teacher told us to go to the library and to find a book to base our story on and to make our own story. I don’t know what book I chose but it must not have been a very good book. The story I wrote was about a boy who didn’t have any friends and couldn’t find anyone to play with him. I wish I had that book I wrote now. I can remember one of the drawing and all it was – was a stick figure and a hill of dirt. I didn’t have much of an imagination back then. And I don’t know why I would chose a male over a female. I can’t remember the whole story but it was just basically about a boy who had no friends. Now the girl who did win in our class and in our grade had a story about a dragon. A fantasy story about a dragon is all I can remember. I felt so bad about not making a better story. Back then, I didn’t know that I could write.
Reading
Through out middle school I would read the books by Francine Pascal called Sweet Valley Twins or Sweet Valley High. The main characters were Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield. There were some other ones geared for pre-teen girls but it was mostly those type of books. It wasn’t until around my 8th grade year I got into Stephen King. I had to have all the books. Looking back – I wish I hadn’t. Those ghost stories did a lot of damage to not only my soul but my real life. Those books can put things into your imagination that shouldn’t be there. And since I believe in Karma, I think those spooky stories can bring things into your life that you don’t need. You have to know that I didn’t grow up in a religious household. We didn’t go to church every Sunday. We didn’t do a lot of things and now that I am older, I am wishing I had.
Poetry
So how does all my life experience lead to poetry? Well, I’m not really sure. I have so much to share, so much to tell, and I really think it started last year – before Suno. When we would lay down to go to bed, I would hear music. I would ask my husband if he heard music and he always said no. It was practically every night. I didn’t hear voices singing, at least not loud but when I discovered Suno, the music stopped and I started hearing verses. I would wake up in the middle of the night and ask my husband if he said something and the answer was always a resounding no. So now I will pick up my phone and put it into the notes app on my phone or into ChatGPT to remember for me. Those lyrics would be different every night. I will sometimes hear a song on the radio and think I can hear a different song with that same style of music. I found I could do parody’s as as long as I mention that in the description, it is legal. I still have some verses or just one line sentences that need songs to go with them but nothing has hit me yet on what to do with them. Well, thanks for reading and I hope that if there is anyone else out there who can relate, you would let me know. Surely to goodness I can’t be the only one. Or am I?
These are stories from the back roads—dusted with time, packed with truth. I write songs, poems, and pieces of life that might’ve been tossed aside, but never forgotten. I’m the Yard Sale Queen, and every word I share is something I found worth saving.
My husband and I have adopted colorful persona’s: Yard Sale Queen and Mr. Crazy Rummage Sale Man. I see the beauty in things that others miss. I find meaning in the ordinary, joy in the trash, and worth in the forgotten. That similar spirit is reflected in “Stories Worth the Dust.”
Dust is time, not just dirt. It’s memories. It’s what decides on something timeless but treasured. My poetry, songs, and stories are all based on real life—the kind that doesn’t always sparkle but is always significant. “Even the dusty things deserve to be heard.” That has a lot of power.
It combines playfulness and seriousness.
Without coming across as a gimmick, this tagline pays homage to my rustic style. It has a great deal of heart and a hint of mystery (“what does that mean?“). In addition to being emotional, a little scrappy, and honoring my Southern heritage, it also sounds intelligent and purposeful. I take my stories seriously, but I don’t take myself too seriously. It balances whimsy with weight in a delicate way. That’s precisely the tone I want to achieve.
It Honors Everyday Life
Everyday things like yard sales, family stories, highway encounters, and music that sounds like my hometown can all be poetic. “Stories Worth the Dust” suggests that I’ve seen, heard, and lived, and now I’m sharing the truth. Big-city polish is not what I’m after. I’m not attempting to be pretentious. I’m attempting to be honest. Stories that grab the reader’s attention are what I write. That originates from actual people, genuine porches, and real kitchens. There is dust in that world. And those old stories have fresh life because I’ve decided to bring them to the public’s attention.
It Builds a Brand That’s Cohesive
Mr. Crazy Rummagesale Man, my husband’s name, conjures up images of laughter, vigor, and possibly even mayhem. My Yard Sale Queen gives the rust a touch of majesty. I’ve already created a universe centered on storytelling, charm, and thrift. That’s the world that this tagline belongs in. It gives the impression that my writing is a gem hidden in the bins, just waiting to be discovered, much like the rummaging. It establishes an identity if I use this slogan on my website, book cover, blog header, and social media biographies. One that is kind, sage, humorous, and proud of its origins.
My Final Thought
I don’t need a big city or a big platform to write meaningful stories. To express what needs to be spoken, I need a heart, a voice, and the courage. I possess all three. I can fly the flag “Stories Worth the Dust,” which states that These words may be from the back roads, but they’re worth reading.
Who’s Driving My Life? A Dream of Loss, Love, and Learning to Let Go
My fears come from my dreams. My dreams show me my fears. I have often had reoccurring nightmares. It may seem ridiculous but I really have to let these dreams get out of my subconscious in order to move on in life. I hope you will watch this first video to hear the whole dream and watch the second video to hear Chat GPT’s complete interpretation. The song is totally based on this dream. My mother sitting besides me in the car is something we used to do together. She passed away in 2014 but I will never forget her.
If you like this type of content, wouldn’t you please give me a comment below or a comment on my YouTube channel? Like and subscribe for more. Thanks.
Chase the Dream ~ Lyrics by Lisa Sanders
In the early morning light, I chase the dawn... Time slips through my hands - it's already gone.
I thought I had peace, everything in its place, But trouble walks in with a stranger’s face. My head said no, but I let her inside, Some things you don’t plan, they just arrive.
In the early morning light, I chase the dawn, Time slips through my hands – it’s already gone. It feels like someone else has been steering my life, Spirit in the seat, no map in sight.
I pushed back hard, didn’t want what she left, Like a child kicking fate, feeling half-bereft. I asked her name, but she vanished like smoke, Left me with questions and no words she spoke
But, of course, I should have known — This hand-me-down life, not fully my own. You don’t get to choose what fate drops at your door, You just hold it close or let it fall to the floor.
Now the floorboards hum with memories deep, Crumbs of the past, I can't help but keep. Ready to start, but silence replies — Still haunted by roads I never did drive.
In the early morning light, I chase the dawn, Time slips through my hands – it’s already gone. It feels like someone else has been steering my life, Spirit in the seat, no map in sight.
In the early morning light, I chase the dawn, Time slips through my hands — it's already gone. Feels like someone else, steering my way, A spirit guide beside me, still shaping my life.
by Lisa, Queen of the Clearance Aisle and Commander of Catchy Tunes
Every song I write is like a yard sale treasure-maybe a little quirky, maybe a little dusty with truth-but once you hold it up to the light, you realize it’s got soul, sass, and a story worth singing.” ~ The Yard Sale Queen
Legacy. Big Word, eh? evokes images of enigmatic treasure maps concealed behind antique portraits, marble monuments, or gold records. Let’s face it, though: my legacy? Probably more like:
A playlist full of real-talk
A garage full of yard sale glory
And maybe a few lipstick stains on coffee mugs
An idea, a phrase, or a sensation that is too obstinate to let go begins as a whisper. After that, it develops into something more: a message, a melody, or a mirror.
Lately, I’ve released four songs that feel like little pieces of my soul stitched together:
Don’t You Know My Name?
Retail Therapy
A Man with a Plan
My Man with a Plan
Each one is different, yet they all carry a part of the legacy I hope to leave behind
Don’t You Know My Name?
– A Song for the Invisible
This one was profoundly rooted. For anybody who has ever felt invisible, unacknowledged, or rejected, it’s a shout into the winds of rejection. For the underdogs, the forgotten, the “background characters” of life who deserved their own spotlight, I wanted to create something unique.
If my legacy includes reminding someone that their voice matters—even when the world’s not listening—then I’ve done something right.
Retail Therapy – A Song for the Women Who Keep On Smiling
This one is cheeky, fun, and exudes “I-deserve-this” attitude. It’s more than just shopping; it’s about rediscovering small joys in the midst of chaos. This one is for the women who are running on empty but keep continuing to chuckle at the clearance rack.
I want my legacy to include laughter. To remind people that fun counts. Joy counts. And yes—sometimes that clearance-rack treasure is your emotional breakthrough.
A Man with a Plan
– A Song for the Dreamers (and the Doers)
This one was inspired by any passionate soul that refuses to give up. The blueprint might be a little crooked. The tools may be corroded. He has ideas and drive and strives to figure things out as he goes. Aren’t we all?
I hope my songs say, Don’t wait for perfect. Start now. You’re allowed to dream while building the staircase beneath your feet.
My Man with a Plan
– A Love Song (with a wink)
This follow-up tune is a personal tribute to the man who has been by my side for more than 30 years. Mr. Crazy Rummage Sale Man himself. This song combines affection, grin, and heart. It is about loving someone not because they are perfect, but because you have created a perfectly imperfect life together.
If I leave behind anything, I hope it’s the reminder that lasting love is worth singing about. Even when it includes dogs, old trucks, and mismatched yard sale treasures.
My Legacy? Songs with Soul.
I don’t need statues or bestselling albums (though hey, I won’t turn down a Grammy if it shows up 😉). What I want—really want—is for someone to stumble on one of my songs years from now, and feel seen. Or to laugh. Or cry. Or sing along like they’re not alone.
My legacy is a songbook filled with truth. With stories. With sass. With sorrow. With hope.
And maybe—just maybe—a little therapy in the form of lyrics. ~The Yard Sale Queen
I want to be remembered as the woman who proved you don’t need a gold card to live a golden life. I turned folding tables into treasure chests and early Saturday mornings into royal processions.
That joy doesn’t come with a price tag. That beauty lives in chipped paint, mismatched mugs, and stories passed hand to hand. That hustle, heart, and humor can make anything feel like home.
I hope people say.
“She didn’t just hunt for bargains-she hunted for meaning in the things others left behind. and baby, she found it.”
I want to be the reason someone pulls over for a yard sale sign – not just for the deals, but for the hope that something wonderful is waiting.
THE YARD SALE QUEEN’s LEGACY
by the Queen, with love (and a little glitter)
I wasn't crowned with diamonds bright, But with sunhats worn and morning light. My kingdom stretched from street to street, Where folding tables kissed my feet.
I chased no riches, owned no malls, But found my gold in garage walls. A faded doll, a vinyl tune— A tea cup shaped like a crescent moon.
I built a life from stories tossed, Gave value back to what seemed lost. And every coin I chose to spend Revived a dream, reclaimed a friend.
Let them say I ruled with flair— With lipstick, laughs, and windswept hair. I taught that joy, not price, defines The treasures tucked in others’ finds.
So when I'm gone, don’t hang your head— Just throw a sale and shop instead. Play funky beats, bring out the snacks— And toast the Queen who lived with clap-backs.
A throne of crates, my crown of grace— And bargains left in every place. A legacy of laughter, keen— That’s the mark of a Yard Sale Queen.
I don’t think anyone likes to be judged, especially by someone who doesn’t know you. Everybody is different. Even twins are different. Everyone is special, and I don’t believe we should judge another person based on anything.
I find that I have to catch myself being judgmental of others, and I put myself in place. The good LORD up above didn’t put us on Earth to judge each other. Only HE can judge us and I feel with all my heart that – that is what HE will do. It will be fair and personal for each person.
I love to share my songs on this platform and one song I wrote that most resonates with me is a song called “Fear In Me”. I hope you will listen to the lyrics and tell me if you can relate. It now has 104 views on my YouTube channel, so it must resonate with people. Won’t you please listen? I will put the lyrics below if you would rather read it.
I build dreams from paper and ink Then tear them down before I blink Set my heart on something new But second-guess what I should do
I chase stars just to lose my way Speak my truth, then hide away Climb the hills, then doubt the view Lock the door and lose the key too
Clip my wings before I soar Knock on hope, then close the door Chase a dream, then pull away Fighting battles I create
I'm the thief who hides my light Hold myself back from taking flight I'm the ghost of what could be Caught inside the fear in me
I turn silver into dust Question those I want to trust Paint my world in shades of gray Then wonder why the colors fade
I'm the thief who hides my light Hold myself back from taking flight I'm the ghost of what could be Caught inside the fear in me
I stand at the edge, but don’t take the leap Sing myself to sleep in secrets I keep But maybe one day, I’ll break the chain And step outside into the rain
I stand at the edge, but don’t take the leap Sing myself to sleep in secrets I keep But maybe one day, I’ll break the chain And step outside into the rain
Married in Arkansas 