Skip to main content

At the Flea Market

My guy and I decided to walk the local flea market so we could look for a brush attachment that would fit our weird vacuum (and found it.) Along the way I saw this plant, growing out of an old plant stall the had to be 12 feet tall. The flowers look like carnations, but I think it's some kind of hibiscus.

Walking through the outdoor section is always fun because it's a true junker's paradise.

I hope Allen stopped before the centipede ate him.

Just when you think you've seen everything made into a quilt . . . .

Chains and old bottles. There's a paranormal story, right there.

Proof that anything can be made into man's image. Sort of.

I love old treadle tables, but my guy dragged me away before I bought it. Do you know they sell these in antique stores as bases for glass-topped tables? For like $500.00?

I've never been into signs, but it's always interesting to see what words other people hang on their walls.

I do love old blue mason jars, but since I own dozens I cannot buy any more. Anyway, it was a fun morning.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Holiday Prep

For Thanksgiving this year we've invited some guests from Oliver's mom's side of the family, so I have to start prepping now to get the house in shape for the big day. The first major thing is having the carpets cleaned, which we've scheduled for next week. This weekend I'll be cleaning out four rooms to get them ready for that. I started with my front dining room, which I use as my sewing room. It was kind of a mess already, so it felt good to get everything cleared out. We'll be having ten people at dinner plus two babies, so this will give me a chance to figure out how to arrange two tables in this space. I think this will be my last time hosting a big Thanksgiving gathering. Mike has started his family with a lovely girl who has a huge, close-knit family of her own, while Katherine will likely be off at grad school out of state for the next several years. I'm also not getting any younger. My guy and I will always celebrate Thanksgiving, but ...

T-minus Day

This was our little Thanksgiving dinner last year, when it was just the three of us. Time keeps whittling down my favorite holiday; this year it will be just me and my guy, and we likely won't even have a turkey.* That will be a first in 35 years. I feel about Thanksgiving the way other people do about Christmas, and while it's a lot of work it's my favorite holiday. Of all the Thanksgivings I've had in the past sixty years, only three were truly terrible: one when I was a kid that I don't talk about (#1 most miserable); the time I roasted two turkeys together and hosted fifteen people whom I cooked for and served with zero help (the largest and #2 most miserable); and the one I spent in basic training (the #3 most miserable.) I have no pictures of any of those, thank heavens. In addition to doing all the cooking I'm the one who takes all the pictures, washes all the dishes and puts away all the leftovers. I suppose no one else cares because to them it...

Fell Off the Wagon

I did cut up that plastic dollar tote to make into something stronger, but got caught up with work and set it aside. Then last night some hand-dyed silk and pretty threads called my name, and, well . . . Felt SO good to do some handwork, except my neck began hurting about an hour into it. I tried changing the way I sit and work, but it's pretty obvious that the doc is right.