The Nashville Flea Market at the Tennessee State Fairgrounds in October is billed as "The Big One" and rightly so. Every booth is taken and filled to the brim with so much stuff you can't possibly see it all in one day. I get a kick out of the vintage clothing and the mannequins that model it. A hat is a must...unless you're headless.
I saw this man lugging a big old bass fiddle around. It was taped up, perhaps to keep it from falling apart. I wonder if he has some restoration in mind for it.
Vintage baby dolls are the creepiest. I'm just saying.
This sign is typical of the outrage the flea market vendors feel toward the powers that be in Nashville. (I'm not sure what that last word is on the sign) The flea market will be here at the fairgrounds through next April. We hear it will be relocated to the old Hickory Hollow mall.
This is good stuff to know. Because you just never know when you might be abducted by aliens.
I wanted this, but I was just crazy enough not to buy it.
I wanted these, too, but Neil didn't want to carry them.
Signs like these always jolt me.
A young man was selling "sound machines" and radios he had restored. We've come a long way, baby.
Self portrait. Me and my shadow, purse, lemonade and the ten gallon crock I bought that was too heavy to carry to the truck which was parked in Timbuktu. Neil had to drive the truck to the crock. Maybe I should have grabbed those cool pumpkins while I had the chance.
We met up with daughter Kelly and son in law Kerry for some supper at Olive Garden in Mt. Juliet--our little after the flea market tradition. Fun day. Happy TGIF, everyone!
