Last week, Beth and I went to my favorite flea mkt. Years ago we never missed it, but in the last few, we've not had the best luck with timing or weather to get to it as much as we'd like.
I'm glad we arrived when we did. The air was still cool, and parking was decent. Shortly after we got there, newcomers had to park along the highway, way up the road. The normal spots in the fields were a sea of mud. We snagged one of the last close places available.
Which really wasn't all that big of a deal in the morning when we got there. With all the excitement of hitting the booths, we wouldn't have minded a trek from the car.
But as the morning wore on, and the Kansas humidity from all the storms mixed with the heat of the day as the sun started to beat down, we were thrilled to not have to hike to the car. We were starting to feel like this poor fellow and decided we had shopped enough.
He'd taken up the best shady spot around, so we decided to head out.
It's a unique place. You don't often see shoppers walking their goats in many other antique venues.
We were satisfied with our purchases for the morning and ready to go. With age comes wisdom, and we were old enough and smart enough to leave before the weather got to us.
Back in the day, we'd have stayed til everyone closed shop and we had no where left to shop, no matter how blisteringly hot the day was.
We had time for a nice, long lunch in an air conditioned restaurant on the way home. And a stop at a couple of antique malls too.
Air conditioned, of course.