Not shopping at the Antique Mall.

We went to an antiques 'mall' yesterday, a big one. You can wander around in there for hours, really. So much to see. It's interesting, really, I know that we are downsizing, and knowing that seems to have made me a lot more mindful. I saw things that I liked, and I was especially taken with a brown ware casserole: 

The price on it was $15. I don't know why I love the 'daisy dot' stuff so, other to than I remember it from when I was a child. My mom had a few pices. I have a mug on the computer desk right now. 

I stood there considering it, and in the end decided, nope. Don't need another casserole dish. 

I walked on. 

I stopped again. I saw some peach luster ware. 

I have four place settings of that. I got them all for perhaps $20 at a thrift shop years back. I love them. They are something that I remember from my childhood as well. My maternal grandmother had some. There were several pieces for sale, but what I especially loved was the tall cups. I drink one cup of coffee every morning, so I use an industrial sized cup. I studied these too. $6.99 a mug. But really, my dishes are carefully packed away. My intention is to bring them out when we get to our new house.  And I already have my morning coffee cup. It is a big orange mug, with a handle that fits me perfectly. It gets washed and put by the cappuccino maker ready for the next morning. Did I really need this beautiful $ 6.99 mug? The answer was no. I walked on. 

I saw a spice set I loved..,

but I already have this...

And so my afternoon played out.  I don't go to these places with an eye to buy anymore, but I love going to them and browsing, and remembering. 

I saw these dishes: 

My mom had a set. They came in boxes of laundry detergent, and she collected them one piece at a time. I even remembered the name of the detergent: Duz. I looked it up to see if I was right. I was! 

'Duz does everything!'

I saw an old wooden folding table painted with a floral still life. We had one, and I remember sitting at it, staring in wonder at the dust motes reflecting in the light in front of the window as I listened to the train whistle trailing far away across the field behind the house. I remember someone in the background figuring it out: "She's looking at the dust!" I wonder how old I was. 

My old rocking horse was there. The self same one that I have in my office right now because my sister was going to throw it out and I didn't want it but I couldn't let it be thrown out either, so...here we are. 

(I'm a mess, aren't I?)

I saw all sorts of things that reminded me of somewhere else: My parents old Big Ben alarm clock. It didn't work, or that would have come home with me. The old electric percolators that burped and hissed. That sound started every single morning when I was a kid, right along with the sound of the radio. We only got one station and the first program was always 'Church of the Air'. My father always felt like the preacher liked to swear, which is why he talked about hell and damnation all the time. Irritated the snot out of my mother. 

It was such a nice afternoon, just walking along and daydreaming. Tim was off looking at the things that interested him, and sometimes we would cross paths to show each other what we'd found. We met friends there too. I was so engrossed in looking that I walked right past them and never noticed them! I heard them asking Tim where I was. 

Tim said, "She's around here someplace..." 

"Uh oh," the man replied. "Probably spending a lot of money..." 

Tim laughed. "No. I know that she isn't." 

He was right. 

Oh. Yes. I forgot one thing. A couple weeks ago, I bought a pair of Sketchers sandals, just a casual pair of flip flops that I can slip into and out of easily. I discovered that when I walk around for awhile, my feet sweat a little. Just enough that the sandals make little farting sounds when I walk.😳 Not a happy discovery.

If you are looking for a small good deed to do, there is a 10 year old boy with cancer in our town. He wants to travel. He cannot. His grandma has set up a PO box for him and asked people to send post cards from where ever they happen to be. If you'd like to take part, the address is: 

Cards for Carson

PO Box 705

Warren, PA 16365

USA

His grandmother just asks for people to tell him a little about the place the card is from.