Flea Market

eMIL and I went to the local flea market on the weekend. 

We live in an area with a large Spanish population so the flea market was filled with the foods, sounds, activities and stuff of that culture – which is why we went.

We filled our tummies with amazing food; corn on the cob Spanish style, pork tortas, chicken fajitas, kettle corn and candy floss.  We tried to eat at every different food-eria but we ran out of stomach room. 

The goods for sale were interesting and some were unfathomable.  Sticks with wooden rings were for chocolate milk mixing, double disk presses were for flattening the taco dough before baking/frying, huge flat-iron slabs for positioning over propane grills (portable bbq?), lots of things we just couldn’t sort out.

We walked, sauntered, strolled, meandered, dillied and dallied.  We watched a gaggle of children try their hands and feet at rock wall climbing, some even making it to the top to ring the bell.  There were tiny girls in blossomy dresses, sparkles and glitters, ribbons and bows.  The boys sported ’50’s style buzz cuts, blue jeans and t-shirts, just like their fathers. 

There were large families, with babies and Seniors.  Small families of just two or three.  All were relaxed, happy and full of noise. 

We’d planned on being an hour, we stayed until the late afternoon.

eMIL snoozed in a chair when we finally got home and I spent the quiet time working on that most frustrating of all things – that rubic’s cube knock-off she’d bought me (it dropped a few colored tiles when we took it out of the package, so I had to reglue those before I could even start).

I’m hoping to go back next weekend, there’s more food to be tasted.


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