You, me, and the Flea

April 28 was the Fancy Flea - the most gorgeous, shabby, grungy, chipped painty, ironworkish, extravaganza of color and texture that you could possibly imagine outside of Paris. Except this brocante of home and garden gloriana resides two times a year in the little town of Lakeland, FL. Which is where I grew up. If they had stuff like this when I was young, I might not have been in such a hurry to leave! 

See the person in the hat taking a photo in the left corner above? That's me...

There's just all manner of bric-a-brac - it's like a flea market on the tastiest concoction of steroids ever seen by womankind.  A truffle extravaganza of  old linen, time-rumpled suitcases, old glass milk jugs with garden flowers...

Dainty leaves nestled in crystal sorbet cups...

Old steel wash tubs filled with Gran's china, old table legs, and a violet or two to make it merry.

Old picture frames, imagery flown away, now resting on hot pink chairs, and stacks of leaves and ironwork.

Crystal drops, and lemondrops. And worn silk ribbons...

Dreamy, isn't it?

Looks like millefiori - actually deep, sweet, earthy scents of exotic soaps! In a wheelbarrow, of course.

BWA - birds with attitude.

I about had a conniption over these wonderful old spice jars. A conniption, I tell you! How in the HECK I didn't spend every penny I own, and then robbed the pockets of anyone walking by is beyond me. Well, except I do have standards, you know.  And I'm saving for a trip to France next summer. That might have something to do with it.

I'm already looking forward to the autumn edition of the Flea - can't come soon enough!