I Heard The Bread Box Call My Name

retro bread box, tin

A flea market has it's own smell. It's a little like Grandma's attic or the inside of an old suitcase or the bedspread in Nana's spare room or the metallic perfume of painted patio furniture. It's a smell of neglect and a smell of opportunity.
 
Every time I enter a flea market, I imagine myself walking out with something incredible.

The hunt. The unexpected. The strange and wonderful trappings of lives gone before.

The thrill of the quest is the blossoming of joy.

The discovery of treasure is a joy-bloom bursting into full colour!

I saw the bread box only minutes after coming in the door.  I touched it and loved it and set it back down before moving on to the next.

But I thought about it the whole time. I thought about it while the kids dug through the box marked 'FREE TOYS'. I thought about it while rifling through old records. I thought about it while I gazed into the marble eyes of a huge mounted deer head. I forgot about it for thirty seconds while I drooled over a bright yellow 50's kitchen counter, island and table but then I thought about it again while I touched the mane of a tired, worn rocking horse.  I thought about how, if I went back to it's spot and saw that it was gone, I would be so disappointed and forever lament a lost opportunity.




Obviously, I needed it...er, wanted it...I could picture it's scarred retro green body adding some retro green beauty to my kitchen.

The booth owner was already packing up her cash box when I rushed back to rescue it from some other lazy shopper who would never appreciate it's beauty like I would.

"Can I please just get this before you leave?" I asked her - like I just couldn't go on if she kept on being done for the day.

"Oh, isn't it just the loveliest colour?" she asked, taking it from me to remind herself of the price she had put on it.

"It's perfect!" I told her, like a complete dweeb, handing her the cash and grinning over my prize.

"You're lucky," she said. "Something like that doesn't sit around long!"

retro bread box, tin

retro bread box, green, tin

Put a little JOY in your morning! Get a happy mug like mine by clicking one of the photos below!


{these photos contain affiliate links and I will be compensated if you make a purchase after clicking on them} 


And don't forget, you still have lots of time to enter for your chance to win this lovely, vintage inspired JOY medallion necklace. People have been sharing beautiful little snapshots of their daily joys and it's been a blessing to read through those each day!

Keep watching the facebook page because I'm planning a JOY BOOST day where the little joy bit you share will earn you 10 entries that day!
pass the joy plate

No comments:

I love comments and I appreciate, consider and read each one. I welcome your thoughts, whether you're in agreement or not; however, this website is a happy place and I will remove any comment that I believe to be inappropriate, malicious or spam like.

Friday, May 9, 2014

I Heard The Bread Box Call My Name

retro bread box, tin

A flea market has it's own smell. It's a little like Grandma's attic or the inside of an old suitcase or the bedspread in Nana's spare room or the metallic perfume of painted patio furniture. It's a smell of neglect and a smell of opportunity.
 
Every time I enter a flea market, I imagine myself walking out with something incredible.

The hunt. The unexpected. The strange and wonderful trappings of lives gone before.

The thrill of the quest is the blossoming of joy.

The discovery of treasure is a joy-bloom bursting into full colour!

I saw the bread box only minutes after coming in the door.  I touched it and loved it and set it back down before moving on to the next.

But I thought about it the whole time. I thought about it while the kids dug through the box marked 'FREE TOYS'. I thought about it while rifling through old records. I thought about it while I gazed into the marble eyes of a huge mounted deer head. I forgot about it for thirty seconds while I drooled over a bright yellow 50's kitchen counter, island and table but then I thought about it again while I touched the mane of a tired, worn rocking horse.  I thought about how, if I went back to it's spot and saw that it was gone, I would be so disappointed and forever lament a lost opportunity.




Obviously, I needed it...er, wanted it...I could picture it's scarred retro green body adding some retro green beauty to my kitchen.

The booth owner was already packing up her cash box when I rushed back to rescue it from some other lazy shopper who would never appreciate it's beauty like I would.

"Can I please just get this before you leave?" I asked her - like I just couldn't go on if she kept on being done for the day.

"Oh, isn't it just the loveliest colour?" she asked, taking it from me to remind herself of the price she had put on it.

"It's perfect!" I told her, like a complete dweeb, handing her the cash and grinning over my prize.

"You're lucky," she said. "Something like that doesn't sit around long!"

retro bread box, tin

retro bread box, green, tin

Put a little JOY in your morning! Get a happy mug like mine by clicking one of the photos below!


{these photos contain affiliate links and I will be compensated if you make a purchase after clicking on them} 


And don't forget, you still have lots of time to enter for your chance to win this lovely, vintage inspired JOY medallion necklace. People have been sharing beautiful little snapshots of their daily joys and it's been a blessing to read through those each day!

Keep watching the facebook page because I'm planning a JOY BOOST day where the little joy bit you share will earn you 10 entries that day!
pass the joy plate

No comments :

Post a Comment

I love comments and I appreciate, consider and read each one. I welcome your thoughts, whether you're in agreement or not; however, this website is a happy place and I will remove any comment that I believe to be inappropriate, malicious or spam like.

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