Welcome to a new series
Join me again here, Monday, September 26th for the first guest post in this series, written by my dear friend
I have had a sneak peak, and you are in for a treat!
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My love of exploring and searching for treasures at the flea market is in my DNA and all began because of my mother.
She was a great finder and collector, and I learned through her how much fun the journey can be and how you can add beautiful things to your home in the process.
I started following her footsteps by going to the same local flea market she frequented on Saturdays, when our girls' activities didn't pull me elsewhere.
She always got there earlier than I did.
And even years later, when ovarian cancer was part of her life, she was always there bright and early.
I have a precious picture etched in my memory of turning down an aisle one Saturday morning at the flea market and seeing her at the far end with a scarf tied around her head, after a chemotherapy treatment had caused her to lose her hair.
This is not a sad tale friends-
although she was far too young to leave us (64).
Why?
Because even though I miss her every single day and my girls do as well, she is in us.
My love of treasure hunting is one of life's greatest pleasures, and my girls have that love as well.
That is because of her.
I started out buying pieces of milk glass and hammered aluminum because they called to me, and they were always on sale for less than a dollar.
Any Saturday morning when I found either, I was in heaven.
Over the years, I moved on to all sorts of things (art work, books, silver plate, china, pottery, kitchen ware, tables, chairs, lamps...), all the while creating collections or simply buying a unique item once.
All of these years of thrifting developed my personal philosophy about all of this, which is:
Build It and They Will Come
Remember this line from the movie Field of Dreams?
When asked how I find things at the flea market, the key is I don't go looking for them.
They come to me.
In typical White Spray Paint fashion, this makes perfect sense to me.
If you are an avid flea market, estate sale , yard sale shopper you know what I mean.
Things appear that I need/want somehow.
It is serendipity at its finest.
Checks and Balances
I don't 'over' haggle. I think it is rude and besides the vendor is selling a product he owns.
His price is his business.
My business is to decide if I will pay the price.
The only thing I ever ask is
"Is that your best price?"
If I can't pay that price, I say thank you , smile, and walk on.
It's a Blast
I love it. I just do.
On Saturday morning I throw on my yard clothes- or a Mexican top, swipe sunscreen on my face and head out in Hauler 2.
I stop at the ATM, get cash, and head to the Chick fil A drive thru for a cup of delicious coffee.
My cart is in the back along with my hat and my shoulder strapped flea market purse from Guatamala.
As I arrive, I start saying good morning to everyone- sometimes in English, sometimes in Spanish , and I am always greeted respectfully and kindly.
I head to my favorite vendor, park my cart and wait for the boxes to be hauled off the truck.
More often than not, my daughter Lauren is at the flea market with me, while my oldest daughter Heather is at the flea market in El Paso, and our youngest daughter Katherine is at estate sales or at local thrift stores in Dallas.
My mother's legacy continues.
It gets a little dicey once the boxes are unloaded, but I get that. It is after all a competitive sport. The fun is still there nevertheless.
You Might Be Horrified
These places are not refined, and I don't care.
My favorite places are not antique stores or antique malls.
Whether it's a Ropa Usada Warehouse where I find books or digging through boxes with laser focus at the flea market or thrift stores, this is not for the faint of heart.
To that I say, to each his own.
This all feeds my introverted spirit, and I am as happy as I can be.
My daughters and I go to Round Top at least once a year where
treasures are certainly in a different type of setting, and we enjoy that too.
We are going next week in fact.
It is about the inspiration and artistry there and the amazement at what the Warrenton (our favorite) vendors have created.
It is My Therapy
Life has its ups and downs, and its highs and lows.
Somehow this is how I process.
This is how I reboot and regain my footing.
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All of the photos above contain flea market finds.
I had fun finding them.
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