We sauntered slowly through the swap meet gathering unto us those things that just leapt out of the crowded isles at us.
“I don’t want to sell that,” said a large black man looking down at a quilt.
“It looks as if it had been run over by a bicycle,” I retorted.
“Oh, ok. Five bucks.” He swept stuff off the quilt onto the macadam.
I grabbed the genuine child’s yellow and blue depression fabric era quilt off the ground finding it sorely damaged, worn, and with bike tracks here and there. It still is a great find. G walked for miles carrying three mass produced lithographs, framed, matted, but signed and titled by the artist. They are charming, and all I can think is they were a come-on for buying some product or other. We have two prints from American Airlines that were giveaways in the fifties. They too are delightful.
The sun was out. Our backs grew warm. I found a tiny tidbit to put in G’s stocking. He found a Russell Wright dinner platter, wrong color, right era. Another bit of delight. I tried on a ring here; he enjoyed browsing the tools there.
“I won’t wear that,” he retorted when I held up a Hawaiian shirt in a hand blocked, blue and white, Japanese print on silk. I would have worn it if it had been a woman’s shirt. Ah well.
Home, we ate, and dozed, and read a bit before coming up and joining you for a few moments. What a nice way to share a bit of the holiday.
Duck: had a good day yesterday. He still can’t think beyond where he is actually, physically located….such as sitting on his bed means he doesn’t “see” his calendar on the wall.
Me: At the end of the last game, my hip quit. Not only was all my hip in agony, it kept giving out on me. I could barely walk. I took yesterday off. Today I took a slow 3 hour walk, took vitimines, and took an ibuprofen. Not too bad. I can hobble slowly.
G: G is good. He’s even dancing a bit. I told him I’d call Seedy’s and see if this was normal.
Weather: 66 for the high. 43 for the low.