'Tis the season, as Spring warms up. Anyone ready to get to a flea market?
A garage sale? Shed sale? Auction? What I euphemistically refer to as curbside shopping?
I'm getting itchy for it. The good news is my itch is going to get scratched.
My sister's coming for a visit in May, and we're hitting a GIANT flea market that only meets twice a year. Friend Kristy is coming along too, and we hope three women can fit a day's worth of egging each other on and resulting junk inspiration into one minivan. If we can wedge some margaritas and chocolate into the weekend too, I'll be likely to consider it the best day of 2012.
My sister Dyan and I get ourselves into this kind of trouble nearly everywhere we go. The evidence, from a 2010 trip:
|Why Mr. Tophat Crow did not come home with me is a question I'm still asking myself.|
Of course this blog post is a preview and a promise to document whatever we drag home. Me, I have a hard time leaving behind ceramic chickens, enamel ware pans and pails, avocado green anything, lamps, costume jewelry, vintage postcards, and the previously mentioned and occasional cross-eyed sad little objects. Dyan loves anything with a bird on it (so shove it, Portlandia), animal and nature themed objects, things with apples, and old books. I'm also looking for a few things to dude up the screen porch and patio.
This, my friends, is gonna be fun.