The end of the school year is two days away. Two days! Columbus schools have a three month summer break. For the past three years I have bemoaned the two month long summer. It always seemed like as soon as we got used to being on vacation it was time to buy school supplies again. Be careful what you wish for. So, to kick off summer, my family has decided to contract three cases of strep and break a thumb. We may not be starting off strong but, no matter, there are twelve more weeks to go.
(Original casting of a soccer injured thumb…Thumbs up!…Removal of improperly set cast to be replaced by a waterproof one… summer is saved!)
Sickness and injuries aside, we had a most spectacular weekend. If spectacular to you means boatloads of antique shopping.
After a rather dreary work picnic, which insisted on occurring even though it was 50 degrees and raining, we had a long trek home. But, wait! What’s that? A tiny town called Waynesville which has actually trademarked the slogan “Antiques Capital of the Midwest” ™. How could we not stop? Store after store of antiques, some genuine, some not so. We had conversations with people from Virginia and the Air Force Academy (I missed those types of interactions in Belgium), and vowed we would return for both vintage shopping and the Sauerkraut Festival in the fall.
Sunday was the day I had been waiting for. The Springfield Antique Extravaganza. Always on the list of top U.S. Flea Markets, included on the list of Ten Flea Markets to Visit Before you Die (a bit extreme, I think), I had been waiting patiently for this one. The weather was beautiful, vendors knowledgeable, nice, and plentiful (over 2100 of them) and the burgers were tasty. We only saw about a third of the place in the day we spent there. Note to self: go at least two of the three days next time.
Toward the end of the day, E discovered a putting set he had to have. They have been studying golf in gym class and he’s become interested. He bargained the seller down to two dollars. Sold! We realized the box didn’t include a putter so we kept our eyes open and spotted one in one of the last booths we strolled by. The dealer said he would be willing to trade. He would give E the putter if he were allowed to sign E’s cast. We walked away with a new golf club and a small set of initials on E’s arm. Now that’s a good deal.