Sunday, September 25, 2011

If Loving You is Wrong, I Don't Wanna Be Right.

I'm fresh from a glorious fall day of pickin' and all is right in my world. This particular photo was taken as Mom, Rusty and I entered the flea market near Fin & Feather at Lake Tenkiller, but before this we hit tons of yard sales along the main road in Gore.

Picker Heaven It Was... that's what I'd like to declare.

What I didn't come home with (but should have):
*a $20 gigantic wooden trunk. Needed Vaughn's trailer for this one.
*lighted blow molds of all kinds...snowmen, Santas, soldiers. Cheap, in working condition.
*a tiny wooden toy kitchen. Turquoise and white. $10. Too many reasons I should have.
*Johnathan apples from the farmers market. They would have been a good pie.
*a little handmade quilt for $15. Would have been a nice blankie for the winter.
*some Fiesta mugs in Persimmon. Do I really need another color to collect though?

Some of the things I did manage to come home with:
*a bigger-than-I've-ever-seen red and white gingham metal tray. I couldn't leave it there.
*a yellow flower brooch.
*a red blazer. I dream of being cool in it.
*two single clip earbobs to add to bobby pins for my unruly hair.
*a black and white wool gingham vest. I'll wear this to enhance my vintage junker look.
*one lone porcelain turkey. Not sure if he was salt or pepper. But he's mine now.
*an OU jacket for Baby Brannon. Get this. Ten cents. A button-down plaid shirt too.
*a Gap hat for Cora. And a OU cheerleader dress. She'll rock both of these finds.
*a soft beige sweater for ME. Looks warm and cozy.
*two new rosette bobby pins that I plan to copy and mass produce for gifts.
*a yellow rick-rack trimmed dresser scarf, embroidered with sunny flowers on each end.
*the velvetiest pink cardigan for Magnolia.
*the sweetest red child's chair. Folds flat. Wooden. I fell in love with the words "My Own Chair".

The sunshine, the cool temperatures, the sight of so many treasures, hanging with all those people who I could most definitely relate with...amazing. If loving junk is wrong, I don't wanna be right.

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