There and Back Again
I'm home, now, from a weekend road trip to New Hampshire, where my brother lives with his wife and...
... their dog (George, the cute, sweater-wearing, forget-you-are-a-guest-and-bark-at-you-in-the-middle-of-the-night Bichon). We had a good time (we being Stephanie and I). We were taken to a flea market, which -- and I am ridiculous to mention this -- was the first flea market I had ever been to (at least, that I can remember). We were on an search for beanie babies (long story -- though, I will always think chunky monkey and remember to look for word chunks in long words that I don't know... whenever I see a monkey), which we found, and discovered a few interesting things that I took pictures of:
The wall of records... (this picture doesn't really do the place justice -- it was really cool)
The Chewbacca mask... (which, I overheard, is one of only a few thousand that were made... and comes with the rest of the... erm, Wookiee)
And the sketchy door, located in the basement, that excitedly invites all to open it (little do unsuspecting flea market patrons know that there is a blood-thirsty three headed dog behind the door waiting to devour all who enter its domain).
--------
On the way home, we stopped at the Lee outlet stores and snagged some "deals" -- or "bargains" if you prefer. I got a couple of cheap sweaters and a new notebook (one that will fit in my back pocket, which should result in me actually bringing it places and *gasp* writing it).
I was disappointed, however, to find out that you can't buy shoes that look like they've been worn already for less than shoes that look like they are new. At least, you can't do this at the Lee outlets.
-------
Thursday, of course, was a Lena's night.
And here are some pictures that, together, are worth five thousand words.
The last two may require some explanations. Caffe Lena is holding an auction for the guitar (currently, the winning bid is fifty dollars; none of us expect that to last very long though).
And, someone (though, I have yet to find out who) wrote a quote from a familiar songwriter above the door in the women's bathroom. This was done a long time ago, and I've finally decided to take a picture of it.
... their dog (George, the cute, sweater-wearing, forget-you-are-a-guest-and-bark-at-you-in-the-middle-of-the-night Bichon). We had a good time (we being Stephanie and I). We were taken to a flea market, which -- and I am ridiculous to mention this -- was the first flea market I had ever been to (at least, that I can remember). We were on an search for beanie babies (long story -- though, I will always think chunky monkey and remember to look for word chunks in long words that I don't know... whenever I see a monkey), which we found, and discovered a few interesting things that I took pictures of:
The wall of records... (this picture doesn't really do the place justice -- it was really cool)
The Chewbacca mask... (which, I overheard, is one of only a few thousand that were made... and comes with the rest of the... erm, Wookiee)
And the sketchy door, located in the basement, that excitedly invites all to open it (little do unsuspecting flea market patrons know that there is a blood-thirsty three headed dog behind the door waiting to devour all who enter its domain).
--------
On the way home, we stopped at the Lee outlet stores and snagged some "deals" -- or "bargains" if you prefer. I got a couple of cheap sweaters and a new notebook (one that will fit in my back pocket, which should result in me actually bringing it places and *gasp* writing it).
I was disappointed, however, to find out that you can't buy shoes that look like they've been worn already for less than shoes that look like they are new. At least, you can't do this at the Lee outlets.
-------
Thursday, of course, was a Lena's night.
And here are some pictures that, together, are worth five thousand words.
The last two may require some explanations. Caffe Lena is holding an auction for the guitar (currently, the winning bid is fifty dollars; none of us expect that to last very long though).
And, someone (though, I have yet to find out who) wrote a quote from a familiar songwriter above the door in the women's bathroom. This was done a long time ago, and I've finally decided to take a picture of it.