Fleaing Cola

Last Saturday Chucks and I took off out of Aiken and headed to the big city of Columbia to go to the US #1 Flea Market.  

(Columbia's known as Cola to some.)

To tell the truth we never left West Columbia.



Fifteen minutes to turn into the place and another fifteen minutes to park.  That's thirty minutes to go 100 yards!

Yes, it was packed with shoppers.

I spied across the parking lot a baby bassinet sitting in a truck bed.

I thought surely it had sold, but, no, the guy was just unloading his stuff.

He was very proud the bedding was still in the bassinet.

<Okay>

He said just to take what I wanted, put it in a pile, and he would bargain a price.

Bundling!

I love to bundle!

A sign made from an old crate from The Spiked Apple Pub - now closed.

A slat-seat stool.

The bassinet - can't you see it crammed with flowers?

A tiny bench.

Miss Frog standing on the tiny bench.

Miss Frog appears to have an attitude.

She was fed up with being jostled around in the back of a truck.

A small brown metal ladder.

A woven hamper.

A tall, skinny medieval-looking candle sconce.

Remember back in the 1960's when some people decorated their houses as if Don Quixote lived there?

 A close-up of that sconce.

Heavy metal on faded red velvet - sounds like a rock anthem to me.

At another dealer's table I bought a herd of poodles.

I used restraint and only bought the white ones.

I especially like the bored one yawning in the background.

A trio of vintage stamp collection books.

I just like the way they looked.

Chuck's truck was not full which meant we had to stop on the way home to pick up a few more items.

A French fake chair - no, a fake French chair.

A huge newel post.

A yellow drawer.

A blue suitcase.

A pink and cream crochet throw.

A silver pitcher.

A trowel.




 
Any rhyme or reason to these purchases?

Well, I was thinking of things to enjoy on a  porch 

Which brings us to these two.

The bones of contention between Chucks and me.

Two old crib mattresses.



Dirty.

Wet.

Stinky.


I had to have them.

He said I had better get them out of his truck and into mine as quickly as possible.

I am ending this post on this note.

Come back tomorrow to see whatever happened to these Baby Jane's!

I might be fleeing Aiken for fleaing Cola.

See y'all!

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