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Little Slice of Heaven, Rural Pennsylvania, United States
wife. mommie. daughter. home-maker. my family is my passion. when not chasing children, husband, or pets about i like to bake, sew, quilt, cook, dig in the dirt, tromp around, take pictures, ponder, and fill my lungs with good, clean air. i am a very blessed girl.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Field-trippin'. . . .

I may have missed Thoughtful Thursday, but it was so very worth it.  A much-needed road-trip with the incomparable Becky of Curious Flea Circus.  With our kids safely tucked into the hands of day-camp counselors, we took off for a sleepy little town known for its antique emporium.  We thrifted, junked, got our hands dirty,
and laughed ourselves purple while pouring through others' cast-offs. 
We had as much fun as two bifocaled, casserole-bakin' babes could have---legally. 
We even had ice cream. 

Without the kids. 

We were *that* naughty.

We both made out like bandits.  My haul included:

Pyrex, Chateau Buffet, Anchor Hocking, and Fire King.  And an awesome tablecloth in my absolute favorite color combo (red, lavender, and turquoisie-green).  The tablecloth is large, with only one small stain.  Definitely useable as is, but I'm leaning towards repurposing it into aprons, potholders, dishtowels, etc.
 It's too pretty to be tucked away in a drawer for 10 months of the year.

However, the capper of the day was this little beauty of a dishtowel, for only one cool buck:

It comes across all retro and cute and funky and cheerful.  And then you think about it.  Hmmm, what could she possibly mean by chicken today, feathers tomorrow? And then it occurs to you.  And it becomes retro, cute, funky, cheerful. . . .

and decidedly macabre.

You know what she's thinking:  I'm going to eat you, Big Boy, I'm going to stew your meat with carrots and potatoes.  I'm going to suck the clinging tidbits off your bones.  And then I'm going to stuff a pillow with your feathers.  And with a full belly and remorseless heart, I will lay my clean conscience down upon my fluffy pillow
and sleep like the babe that I am.

And just look at Big Boy. 
He knows she's good for it.

This is so becoming an apron, it's not even funny.
For more fun than you can shake a stick at, and a modicum of macabre---don't walk---run to Curious Flea Circus
The ringmistress does not disappoint. . . .

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