Knee Surgery Is Not Bad After All

Yesterday was Gary's third day of laying around. Needless to say, just being at the lake to recuperate was not enough. By early afternoon he said he just had to get out. Where we are staying is very limited on "getting out." I turned on the GPS and chose "Local Attractions." Well, even out in the middle of nowhere has local attractions. Let's see, we could go to the "Queen Anne Mansion" (a queen's mansion in Arkansas???), or the "Abundant Memories Heritage Village" (sounds like an old folks home where they work on genealogy), or we could go to the "Ozark Fly Flinger" (now you're talking!), or the "Gallery Mint Museum" (wonder what that is?) or, wait...the "Museum of Children" (now, that I gotta go to...poor children!). I'm not through, there is the "Hungry Flea Restaurant" (all I have to say is...yummy!)

I did see a flea market down the road. I asked Gary if he would like to go to a flea market. He responded, "Yes, let's go." Hence, the title of this blog. Gary does not go shopping but when he can't drive, he'll go anywhere you'll take him.

You need a little history here...Gary does not do flea markets. He shopped at flea markets once in his life. When Shane moved into an apartment while going to college I wanted to buy him a couple of real wood bookcases, big ones. I didn't want to pay full price because it was a college apartment, after all. We shopped all day and didn't find any. I ended up going to Walmart to buy him two big bookcases. I think they are in a landfill outside of Conway today.

More about flea markets...that was actually the first time I had ever shopped at flea markets also. During this trip I saw these gold (amber) glasses that I had in college, my sister had in college, Brent had in college, one of my sister's boys had in college, and even Shane ended up with them also. They were $1 a piece at the flea market. I knew I should have packed those and put those in the attic for the next 20 years! Anyway, they are in a landfill outside of Conway also.

Back to this particular flea market yesterday....we walked in...Gary said "I don't feel good, let's go." I quickly responded with "Just a minute, I'm looking around." He finds a chair. I find a picture hanging that looked exactly like a picture Tomama used to have hanging. It's brown, organge, beige, green and is a picture of a peacock, rooster (can't recall, it's been a long time since I've seen that picture). The material looks like someone stuffed cotton behind the peacock or rooster because it is three dimensional. I exclaimed, very loudly ("Oh no...here's Tomama's picture. I thought she made it from scratch all these years!") Gary said "Don't you think there is a pattern for that picture." Absolutely not. My Tomama never had to use a pattern. I'm traumatized over this.

My flea market days are over. It's too upsetting.