Some kids grew up playing tennis or sailing sunfishes on Lake Champlain, but we grew up garage saling with our mother. We spent Friday nights circling classified ads with a red Sharpie. Saturday mornings my sister and I crammed into the front seat of the old Toyota pick-up truck, sleepy-eyed and cranky. And our mother, fresh-faced and chipper, eyes glinting with the images of other people’s castoffs, filled up the travel thermos with coffee and made sure we wore our running shoes.
So as April approaches, I can’t help but feel the old stirring in my blood. Come spring, I begin to behave diffently. I drive with one eye on the road and one eye peeled for hand scrawled “Garage Sale today!” signs. I make sure I always have a wad of ones in my wallet. I wear comfortable shoes and travel the side streets on foot.
With this inherited trait, it’s not surprising then that I have a soft spot for flea markets. It’s like a centralized clearing house of castoffs without all the driving around with a map. I’m completely in love with this recent list I found over at decor8–a great blog for crafty finds.
How great is that?!