There's something about the serendipity of miscellaneous sales: yard sales, antique fairs, church bazaars and jumbles. I used to be much more methodical about the things I wanted to find, but now I go and let myself get carried along in a gentle swell of random discovery. Without trying too hard, the randomness usually sorts itself into a pattern. I'll notice something particular — a brass pipe holder with a scottie dog couchant, a worn work table, a porcupine quill basket — and the rest of the sale turns into a parade of terriers or pipe accessories or workshop furnishings or handmade baskets. Tomorrow, we're heading to the Burton Antique Fair, and while I'd love to find a stash of Creative Playthings, I'll be happy to just poke around and see what's there.
I'm knocking on the door of 37 weeks, and swollen hands and ankles have gone from an occasional curiosity to a daily fact of life. Stretchy tank dresses and soft leather sandals, plus many, many breaks for icy drinks and elevated feet are how I'm getting by.
On the agenda: