Oh! This is the greatest day off ever. First, I woke up. I made myself crepes with home-made applesauce and yogurt. Then, I put on my nice wool coat, being that it’s very crisp outside today, and went to the farmer’s market, where I bought these from the farmer I have a crush on.
zinnias!
[/caption] (That vase, by the way, bears mentioning. It’s english china with a sweet little strawberry print on it — flea market, four dollars! Yes ma’am four dollars.)Then, I lured into the heart of downtown Northville by garage sale signs, I discovered the most ridiculous antique liquidation garage sale I could possibly imagine. The kind sir operating the deal informed me that I could not leave without something, and I asked whether I had to pay. It was then that he said he’d sell me this table for $5.
my pretty little table
Do not listen to this woman. These are the words of a madwoman! She may sound completely rational, but, I assure you, she is not. She has a stuff problem. She is like a rabid antiqueing ground squirrel, and the worst of it is, she hasn’t got anywhere to put these things she hauls home. Somewhere in the wine country north of San Francisco there exists a hangar which houses her vintage duvet cover, blue cowboy boots, and an entire set of vintage china (plain white with gold around the rims — simple, everyday china. It was an entire set for only thirty dollars and I couldn’t pass that up!) Somewhere in the desert of Northern New Mexico there exists a garage which houses a vintage typewriter (but I found it in the cabin I once lived where, purportedly, DH Lawrence had also lived. It could have belonged to him! Though, I admit, that’s doubtful) and probably two or three boxes of books — among other things — belonging to this woman. She must be stopped before she collects more and continues in her mission to deposit (aesthetically appealing!) arcana upon yet another unsuspecting recipient.
In other news, I am gearing up for the Brooksie Way half marathon on Saturday. I hope the weather stays…weathery. I hope it doesn’t rain, or snow. I hope neither of my legs develops gangrene and falls off before then. I hope the bump on my knee (my joints are so prone to forming bumps) doesn’t get any bigger. I’m rather anxious about the whole deal. The last (and only!) half marathon I ran was in Salt Lake City two Aprils ago, when I stopped smoking for ten days or so and decided that was a good enough reason to run a half marathon which I had not trained for (other than an entire winter of hiking up hills in my ski boots) at all. I didn’t do too bad, either — I finished in the top half of my age group — but then again recovery was quite rough. I believe I spent ten days in bed eating cereal, and summarily started smoking again. Anywhoo, given that I’m not half that stupid anymore, and I have trained for this, it should go better. I’m not quite as lithe as I used to be, but I don’t smoke, either.
One more thing –
Oh my goodness! Sweaty chefs and Harry Connick, Jr.? And sustainable agriculture? AND Martha Stewart?!? I can’t believe these sort of things happen without me.
