Brimfield Flea Market is host to antiques, industrial salvage, oddities, miles of fields and food vendors as well as paintings, porters and dealer personalities. These antique dealers stage their tents awaiting sales while buyers scope the huge territory waiting for just the right item. My September visit demonstrated both sides of that vintage coin. A dealer’s display of this little guy stopped me in my tracks. What is he waiting for?
– a glass display box?
– the next onlooker reaction?
– better eyeware fashion?
– someone to purchase him?
– his next meal?
I know, perhaps:
– an undertaker?
It seems the taxidermist left him in the dark and feeling a little stuffed.
Photo credit: Nancy Adler
When it was the right thing to do:
“God gives what is best, does what is most loving, and gives our hearts desires.”
God in every moment calendar
Yes, there is. My last entry was meant to be a one part sequel. However, our summer downsizing project seems to be on the upswing. Baby girl helped Dad clean his bedroom closet! The cleaning follow-up post-it notes have been irritating but getting him to toss items makes her the queen of motivational cleaning!!
She knows exactly how to coerce and manage him. It was clear from the first note that she got his buy-in to approach the not-in-a-million-years project:
I was still the one to lug them away and make the drop-off but I did it with a spring in my step and the spirit of Santa Claus. I also have a documented audit trail so there can be no backlash!
The next note I reacted to with the same enthusiasm:
I couldn’t take the trash out to the garage fast enough!
Of course I still inherited work from their labor…
…but it’s nice to know they think I’m the entrepreneur of the family.
It was also sweet to learn my daughter wants to wear an old camouflage sweater from Dad’s younger days.
What I had a problem with was when I saw they had questioned my decorating skills:
No, we are not getting rid of my two Currier prints in the antique frames with the original bubble glass.
No, we are not getting rid of my inspiring Soyer print.
No, we are not getting rid of great uncle Harrison’s heirloom.
I’ll bow to the queen for helping us clean a closet but I am not her court jester.
Check out my first official
(OK, second…the self-published blog counts right?)
as a toy collector!
“Donna” is my given name!
The 7 photos at the bottom of the web page are mine.
Our youngest is helping us declutter our home. We’ve lived here for 25 years and have hundreds of memories. She’s making us realize that each doesn’t need to be memorialized with a trinket or print.
Earlier posts describe the process as therapeutic, humbling and exhausting. I didn’t think I’d get emotional cleaning out a hall closet. I hadn’t realized we were territorial over our kitchen gadgets. It surprised me to learn my husband still had the shadow box I made him in college.
The other night our home project even became humorous. My daughter had been of the opinion that we had too many items displayed on our mantle. She asked me during the week to pick my favorites and dust. I told her I didn’t want to start a new project after working all day. When she asked the second night, I told her I’d do it over the weekend.
That being promised, on Friday night I came home to the photo you see in the title. They were all in our bedroom…..in a line. Clearly, she wanted me to make good on my promise. I walked towards them and realized it wasn’t just a few angels. She had all my collectibles from the mantle following each other…
…all the way to my side of the bed! It made an impression. I picked out my favorites, tossed a few and boxed the rest for my antique booth. I had to if I wanted to go to sleep that night. Now we had another memory…and a few LESS trinkets!
I was remiss in my last post. At that first yard sale stop I also spent $2 on my yard stick display shelves.
I put them in my antique booth to display all my Fisher Price peeps, since they didn’t all fit in the bus.
I risked another two bucks at our second stop across from the ballfields. I bought a 1959 Parker Brothers Risk game.
Sometimes vintage games sell at the shop if the right buyer comes along. If not, it’ll be a good display piece for Father’s Day.
I won’t be negligent in telling you the woman I bought it from also had a lot of nice vintage dolls from the 1940’s. She was not remiss in doing her research on them.
I didn’t get any dolls but we did go to more sales!
Our yard sale route was mapped out perfectly today. We started at the Old Parish hall because every year someone there knows exactly what I want:
- My peeps were waiting for me…
- …and those young’ens also knew I’d adopt their pets:
- I impersonated Noah and brought them aboard too. They didn’t have bus transport though, so I bought them some “carnival” glass.
- The bundled lot set me back $1.75 but I accepted God’s will.
- My adoptions may end within forty days and nights, once I come down to earth, but I will find them all new homes.
- Needless to say, I flipped over our first stop.
Bay (state) Psalm
(A partial song):
From life I was born
And my instrument plays
But for whom to hear?
On that note…
I die an untimely death.