Last weekend's yard sale score included a lovely hand-painted table with matching chairs. Sometimes the little plastic people like to try these items out on my desk first, before we go to the trouble of setting up a whole scene. Here we have Mask Dude, one of the wrestlers, telling wild stories of his life before Plastiqueville, including how he lost the tips of his fingers on his right hand. (I suspect a dog chewed them off, or maybe a kid did it.) Last weekend's yard sale score included a lovely hand-painted table with matching chairs.  Sometimes the little plastic people like to try these items out on my desk first, before we go to the trouble of setting up a whole scene.  Here we have Mask Dude, one of the wrestlers, telling wild stories of his life before Plastiqueville, including how he lost the tips of his fingers on his right hand.  (I suspect a dog chewed them off, or maybe a kid did it.)

I thought this was going to be one of those rare yard sale days where I come home empty handed.  The first two sales offered almost the exact same merchandise.  It was uncanny.  Glassware and Christmas decor, and cookbooks cookbooks cookbooks.

We were on our way to that one last sale when we passed it.  Big yard, plenty of parking.  Still, I was beginning to think that it was just more of the same - until I looked down and saw the crate:  the piano, the red sofa, the little bed.  Five bucks for the whole darn thing.  All wood, not a speck of plastic, in played-with-but-still-pretty-good condition.  

So, it looks like I'm going to be a little busy for a day or two.  I'm thinking more incense pictures, floating out from behind the closet door, or maybe from under the bed?

Randy's two sons descended on our household today, along with the grandson and - bonus! - Randy's brother Ron.  In years past I would have the camera, but today I spent most of a very hot afternoon trudging between the kitchen and the back yard, delivering potato salad and barbecue tongs.  The people of Plastiqueville were occupied with their own Fathers Day celebrations, and my hands were too greasy to juggle a camera, so no photos this year.

Instead, we reach into the past, where we find my dad and me at "The Land of Make Believe" (I believe that was its name), a tourist attraction in the Adirondacks of New York State.  I share this with love and pride because it's so natural, one of the few candids I have of Dad where he's smiling and totally unaware of the camera.   (Thanks, Mom!  Good one!)