Kittens, I have committed the last 24 hours to Hardcore Eating Carbs and am very much in a place of peace.
For those of you who are craving zen and relaxation, I most definitely recommend this course of action.
Since the forecast for this weekend was abysmal, I didn’t pack my running clothes. I figured that a morning off would let me refresh, and if the sun did decide to peek out, I just wanted to be able to relax and bask in it.
Naturally we were blessed with an absolutely rain-free day, which led to LOTS of time spent outside.
The flea market was at the top of our to-do list and because I couldn’t help myself, I had to take a few snaps.
Sometimes you go to the flea market and you find vintage purses…homemade jams…strands of pearls.
Other days you just have to take it all in.
I’ll let you try to make sense of the odd juxtaposition of expired cheese products, tables laden with switchblades AND painted gourds, and as Mom so eloquently put it, “Art that should never be made.”
Just when we think that we’ve seen it all, they always manage to out-do themselves.
Post-flea market we did some bog-wrangling with the pontoon (a tiny swamp was trying to float towards our strip of beach), checked out the eagles’ nest (there is a breeding pair on our lake and this year there are two eaglets!) and went to The Wharf for lunch. I enjoyed a cup of creamy lobster bisque and a walleye sandwich.
I think we can all agree that one isn’t truly Up North until they consume something that has been pulled from the water. Regardless of where that water actually is.
I know I was meant to draw a giveaway winner today. But even the thought of putting the information into a spreadsheet seems like WAY too much effort for this lady at the moment. So expect news tomorrow or on Monday at the latest.
Do you ever visit flea markets? What’s the strangest thing you’ve seen at one?