If you are
‘of an age’,
and you were raised with the same basic guidelines as I was,
as a child/middle-aged woman you wanted something
you could not have…
you may have been warned not
to get ‘swelled up’, as my mother would say.
That warning usually began,
as my frown was forming,
‘of an age’ glory,
I have been swelled up at the flea market.
If you are a junker/thrifter, you know what I mean.
My favorite vendor keeps saving boxes of amazing things
for other people,
I see something in someone else’s cart that makes me hyperventilate,
I am a day late.
Last week was no different.
Until I turned the corner and saw this.
Big Daddy (above) was sitting on the ground under a table full of shoes.
My Academy Award self immediately changed my swelled up expression
to one of disinterest.
I nonchalantly moseyed over.
The first thing I checked?
1. Does it have all of its feet?
2. What does its hallmark say?
No hallmark. Hmmm.
3. Is it heavy?
4. Is the price right?
Yes, $20, but she said she would take $18.
And most importantly???
5. Would it sooth my swelled up heart?
Wow Us Wednesday at Savvy Southern Style
Primp Your Stuff Wednesday at Primp
Table Top Tuesday at A Stroll Thru Life
Share the Love Wednesday at Very Merry Vintage Style
What's It Wednesday at Ivy and Elephants
Good Life Wednesdays at A Beach Cottage