A Brutal Day at the Flea Market

My friend Jood and I have been trying to get together for weeks to attend the Santa Cruz flea market but for one reason or another we were just not connecting. This morning just after 8:00, after I powered up the computer to email Jood, the phone rings and Jood's voice wants to know if I'm ready for the flea market. We set a time and place to meet. In the meantime I have a lengthy phone conversation with my dear friend Jack in Indiana (aka as Cowboy Jack, that's another story). I realize what time it is and throw my clothes on, grab my purse and rush out the door so I have time to hit the ATM for some cash. When I get to the bank I realize my wallet is still laying on my kitchen table where I got it out last night to empty and hand over to my teenager. WAH! No atm card, no drivers license, no credit cards, duh? I wait for the bank to open at 9:00, call Jood tell her I'm running late, and cash a check after answering the selected questions since I have no ID on me.

Jood and I arrive at the flea market and as we eye items we're interested in and ask the price everything seems to be way high?? And no one was budging much on reducing the price. A black metal tray with some dachshunds painted on it was $10.00? Really? Nothing special, just cute and dog related. On we go. I got a nice Chinese lacquered case that will be great to put art supplies in .



Then I had to have the little limes pictured in the bowl for margaritas later on. (I did not get the ceramic bowl there, that's made by my friend Terry Parker).




I also found this cool vintage mirror with heavy beveled glass in it and the silver was only slightly tarnished.




Jood got a cool, old rusted candelabra with chains and everything but I don't have a photo of that.. I picked up a couple other oddments and then I cruised by a booth that had a bunch of old silver plate ware and inquired about cost. The person whose booth it was wasn't around but the guy next to him said he could help. I picked out five spoons and asked how much, he shrugged, I said 50 cents each? He said sure, if it's not okay he'd give the guy some of his. I paid him, took the spoons and Jood and I sauntered off only within a minute to have a burly looking guy chasing after me and yelling "Ma'am Ma'am ..... and approaching me he says "How many spoons did you take?" I said 5 as they were still in my hand. He grabbed them from me, shoved the money back at me, shaking his head and said "No, those are $3.00 each!" and turned around and walked off. It was a scene and people were looking at me like they thought I had stolen them. Weird! A few booths on I stopped to look a box of cases of beads and the guy whose booth it was began yelling at the top of his lungs for everyone to come to his booth because everything was cheap because it was stolen. I was asking how much for a particular box of beads and he stumbles over to inquire did I want the whole box or just that small one. His breath just about knocked me over! Was that rye whiskey? I said nevermind and walked on wondering if the merchandise was indeed stolen? Jood and I decided it was a rough day at the flea market and we took ourselves to Sweet Peas and had salmon/spinach crepes and wondered.

I'm home now and the predicted rain has started. It should rain for a couple of days but by Tuesday the sun will be out again and then my friend Sharon arrives.