Flea-ing the Snow

"Do you want to go to the flea market this morning?" I stared at my husband in something akin to shock, then pointed out the window to the over-a-foot of snow still on the ground. Now, don't get me wrong. There's pretty much nothing I like better than going to our local flea market (Golden Nugget Antique Market, in Lambertville, NJ) on a Sunday (or Saturday, or Wednesday) morning. It's the best antique flea market I've ever found, and it's only 20 minutes away. We've bought so much stuff there over the years that we joke our house is decorated in Early Lambertville. But...well, there's snow, LOTS of snow, on the ground. Still, hubby can be persuasive, especially about things he knows I love to do, and since the weather has made it impossible to do just about any of the things I love to do lately, I bundle myself up, clamber into the car, and off we go.

We usually get to Lambertville around 7:30 in the morning, earlier if we can manage it. Like most flea markets, you get the best bargains early. But, given the weather conditions, and the fact that it's pretty cold, 9 or even 10 seems a reasonable time to get there. We pull in at 9:50 and stare at the vendors who have braved the weather. Normally there are as many as 200 hundred dealers at the height of the season. This morning there are perhaps 25 or so. They're mostly huddled under the covered section of the market, and are surprisingly cheerful. It's almost like everyone came to a picnic, which got moved inside because of the snow.

I wander the tables, looking for something that catches my eye, weaving in and out of the other stalwart shoppers. A surprising number of the other buyers are Russian, although, given the weather, maybe that isn't so surprising. There's some interesting stuff, and the prices aren't bad -- they rarely are at this time of year. Hubby finds a box of aeronautical magazines for $20 ("I just thought they were interesting"), but, sadly, I strike out. It happens. As I climb back into the car and we pull out of the parking lot, I realize that I'm smiling and feel better than I have in days. I guess taking a walk through the cold, crisp air on a Sunday morning is a whole lot better than staying in bed.