I’m thinking that the guy who said ‘We are all sexual beings’ never watched an episode of Antiques Roadshow.
I’ll also bet that he never went to a flea market, unlike me, who went last Sunday. It was…an adventure. We saw some dirty jars and broken machines. Ate a banana nut muffin, nearly bought a Mongolian sheep pelt, then had an overly anxious vendor dry spit half a can of Pringles on me.
Have you ever stood next to a wood chipper when the trunk goes in and a projectile cloud of sawdust shoots back? Yeah. It was like that.
My goal was to find a new fixer-upper of a coffee table — no luck, but I did find some clip-on earrings and some honest-to-goodness Wedgwood plates for a dollar a piece. When I found out how much they were it took everything within me to stifle the cry, DOLLER MAKES ME HOLLER HONEY BOOBOO.
But I didn’t.
The plates are now home safely with the rest of my higgledy-piggledy collection of blue and white granny plates. Not that they belonged to my granny, it’s just easier than calling them imitation Spode or inspired by Delft Chinoiserie. In this case, granny plates just sounds sexier.