My dad and I ran down to the annual Roosevelt Flea Market to see what kind of junk we could find. Flea market shopping with my dad always reminds me of the time my mom said he came home with a lawn chair for $2 that had a $1 sticker on it. HA
Anyway we made our rounds and all the same vendors were there - people selling vintage stuff, stuff they made, etc. I found a very cool LADIES sign that would have fit perfectly into the cutout above my bathroom on the main floor but was listed for $275 so no thank you.
We ran into lots of neighbors including Butch and Sandi Fish, and at one point somebody told my dad he better go check out the cream cans the old feller outside the barn had for sale. We had already been by there and nothing grabbed our attention but we went back to see what all the fuss was about.
AND WOULDJA LOOKEE HERE:
Obviously all of us kids are fighting over it. Pete thinks it's rightfully his because his name is right there on it, I think it's rightfully mine because I'm the one who coughed up the sixty bucks and my dad's brother Aaron seems to remember Grandpa whispering something on his death bed about bequeathing the cream can...
I sure hope our family survives this.
1 comment:
I sure hope so too.
P.S. SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU BLOGGING AGAIN, but also not judging you one iota because I moved on for a while too.
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