We stopped at the first estate sale to find an exquisite Deco styled, solid burl end table. I only said, “We shouldda brought the truck,” several times yesterday. I was proud of my restraint.
Then we called and woke Marion B. Oh, the embarrassment. We will call back later, we said. The next one wasn’t an estate sale. The pros run these in a predictable pattern: Wednesdays and Thursdays for the dealers, Fridays and Saturdays for the rest of us, and Sundays, everything half price.
No Marion answer after that one.
Next you could find us miles out in never, never land, on the side of a mountain at a small, old cottage with a marvelous electric, push-button stove. Old Electroluxes too. I bought a couple of Sunbeam cooking pamphlets. Touched the stove a couple of times also. Lunch at Jaque, a moment at Amvets where G fell into Tommy Bahama heaven, and again a call to Marion.
She was up, clean, home, and before you could say whiskers, we were there to take pictures. Delightful chairs, shiny pots and pan…..imagine new pans, and dessert while Marion B ate lunch.
Sometimes the days are made up of little things like cheering on walkers, cheering on G’s, or cheering on Marion’s are the very best kind of days in the end.