Guilty, Guilty, Guilty

We went to the flea market.

Mr. Space Age was determined. So determined, in fact, that he offered to take the children and let me stay home. Alone.

It was a tempting offer.

I went, though. In the end, I couldn't resist the family outing and the promise of a pumpkin spice latte on the way home. It was interesting, however, that it was I who found many treasures and not Mr. Space Age himself.

We brought home with us a lovely set of silver, service for four, including soup spoons, soda spoons, and a serving spoon. I've always wanted to have silver; my mother uses her wedding silver every day. When I selected the 25 pieces, priced at two dollars each, the elderly woman selling them said, "Oh, I hate to charge you so much for those. I'll let you have all of them for $30." She wrapped them carefully and placed them in a plastic bag for me. It was my first treasure of the afternoon.

Shortly after I completed that purchase, I went to catch up with Mr. Space Age, who had taken the children to look along the aisles of booths ahead of us. As I walked, from the corner of my eye I spied a booth full of Pyrex. More Pyrex than I had ever seen in one place before, all of it vintage. There were at least a dozen patterns, including the Crazy Daisies that remind me of my mother. Nestled in one of the top shelves of bowls and covered dishes, I found some that matched a yellow pattern I have at home. My mother bought a set of nested mixing bowls for me some years back, vintage pieces she'd found on eBay while searching for another, more elusive yellow bowl. Included in this booth were a twin for the largest of my mixing bowls and a small casserole. I asked about the casserole.

"It doesn't have a lid. You can have it for three dollars."

No lid? Okay. I have the same-sized casserole in a 50-year-old snowflake pattern, and the two can share the lid that came with that one.

As I finally rounded a corner and saw Mr. Space Age, he waved me over to where he was standing.

In front of a radio.

I collect vintage radios, and ever since our honeymoon, Mr. Space Age has shared that interest. I guess I can credit him with finding one of today's treasures. It's a Panasonic radio, large, monospeaker, perhaps from the 1960s. It broadcast one of the afternoon's football games, demonstrating its worth not just visually. It's guts are in working order. Twenty dollars for that? Please! Let me take it off your hands!

"If it hadn't sold this weekend," the man said pleasantly as he took my twenty-dollar bill, "I was going to take it home and listen to it. I have one that's stereo." I told him about my 1964 Magnavox console stereo, the one I bought at a garage sale eight years ago in near mint condition for just $25.

I could have made several more purchases from the Pyrex lady, and one booth had a tempting selection of vintage cookbooks. If two young children hadn't asked for lunch when they did, I might not have escaped with any cash left in my purse at all.

I did, however, get that pumpkin spice latte on our way home.