To Market To Market To Buy A Fat.......Flea!

I've never been to a flea market before, so when I found out Scooter and my sis-in-law were selling their kites at a local market, I had to stop by to cheer them on and scour for a deal.  It was a scorcher of a day, and I think if there were any deals to be had, they were all cowering in the shade.  

I'm constantly inspired by the creative women in blog world who remarkably transform a $2 flea market find with a dab of paint or a little hot glue.  I was determined to find a treasure to whip into shape so I could proudly share pictures on my blog this week.  I started the search proud and strong, but started wilting right off the bat.  

My problem is that I lack vision.  Some women look at old junk at the flea market and see a world of useful potential.  I pretty much see junk....hot junk, sizzling away in the noon sun.  I stared at some it wondering to myself, as I was sweating into a puddle, how it could spawn beauty and functionality.  I ended up settling for a fresh squeezed strawberry lemonade ($4 - the way to make money at the flea market is to be the guy with the biggest bucket of ice) and considered that my great find of the day.  On the up side, Scooter sold a bunch of kites and wind spinners, so it was all good.

In other weekend news......the boys had a friend over for swimming, along with a hot and heavy session of wheeling and dealing.  Baseball cards are the big ticket this summer, and it appears that building a collection is important so the cards can be swapped and traded.  (We did get four packs of baseball cards at the flea  market for $1, so Hayden considered the trip a roaring success.)

The cat has found a new hiding spot, which is crucial for the poor kitty since Emma takes a great deal of interest in him lately.  Twice now I've gone to put away towels and found him curled up on the shelf in my linen closet.  He's been locked up in there on accident a few times too, so now I feel like I need to add the cat to the daily head count.  Where's the baby?  Who's watching the baby?  And that cat?  Do we know where the cat is?  He's not locked in the closet again, is he??  Accounting for everyone is a very big job around here.

The boys have cub scout camp this week, and a big part of camp is trading little trinkets called "totems".  Camp has a different theme each year, and the totems somehow represent the theme.  This year our troop had "Alaska" for a theme, so we made 100 polar bears and 100 "Klondike" ice cream sandwiches.  We made a few gold nuggets too, but I was too tuckered to totem by the time we got to the nuggets, so we have very few.  Oh well, gold is a rare and precious thing.  

I think we're geared up for camp.  We've sufficiently torn apart the house and left a disaster in our wake, so it's a good week to get gone.  By the time I get home at 9:00 each night this week I'll be too hot and tired to care much about the mess.  Clean and orderly houses in the busy summertime are like gold nuggets; rare and precious.  Kind of like flea market treasures, maybe.  :)