I decided to push the opening of Flea Market season by a month and spent the day in Charlotte at the monthly flea market. I usually wait until the first weekend in April and go to the “Extravangaza” but the weather turned off to be so nice so I made the trip. It actually was a pretty good market; I suppose the promise of fine weather brought out the vendors.
And while I had a great time, it was also the scene of great heartbreak. I was digging through a booth of a man who had lots of great junk, and I’d already uncovered some 1950s Harpers Bazaar magazines, when I spotted these:
There were four pattern company counter catalogues from the 1930s and 1940s. These are getting harder and harder to find, and they bring obscene prices when they surface on eBay, so I was ready to plunk down a bit of hard-earned cash for them. While my heart was still racing I reached to open one, and the vendor uttered one word that made my poor heart stop:
Yes, scrapbook. Each was filled with glued-in newspaper clippings, first of WWII, then of the Korea conflict. And, yes the odd marriage announcement, obituary, club officers photos… I was just devastated. I tried the glue to see if it would release easily from the pages, and found that the sticky was semi gone, but I had a reality check right then and there, knowing how many hours it would take to remove all the old clippings. So I left them to either a fashion lover with time on his or her hands, or to a person who craved the news from the 1940s and 50s.
My husband thought it was a clever application of recycling, and yes, he’s right, but darn it why did this have to happen to me?!
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