Flea market is like a treasure hunt: best undertook in comfortable shoes.
I struck gold again: this beautiful Underwood 4-band portable from circa the 1920's. She's a beaut, ain't she?
There was a whole lot of stuff I didn't buy, like a pile of mismatched cutlery.
Or this... teapot?
Fashionable hat.
I was tempted by the monkey, but held strong.
Yeah...
Okay, I have absolutely no idea what this is about, but I have the vague feeling that somehow it's racist.
2 weeks ago
6 comments:
I love the typewriter. It's a work of art.
The racist stuff reminds me of House on the Rock in Madison, Wisconsin. It's a huge museum full of stuff. There's a lot of that kind of thing there.
The problem is there's tons of exhibits and a lot of them have dups so you start to feel like you'll wander forever and never get out. It's an experience, but I'm not sure I'd like to do it again.
Whooee, what a sweet typewriter, Vanda. Cool, beautiful and functional and of course it makes all those wonderful noises that dumb computer keyboards can't do. Yay!
Other than some of the cutlery I'd have bought everything on display here. I have neither self-control nor shame when faced with stuff like that.
Awesome!
The tea pot is disturbing.
Good restraint.
I want one of those typewriters. I never come across them at flea markets. I had one when I was a kid.
That last one totally intrigues me. I found this Nob: 1. Slang The human head.
2. One for the nob: The jack of the same suit as the card turned up by the dealer in cribbage, scoring one point for the holder
And now it makes even less sense.
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