Every once in awhile the stars align and our Sunday mornings are free – no hockey games, no major homework assignments, no family commitments. The Saturday evening before, Graham sets it up: “I was thinking of going to the market tomorrow morning.”
Dutifully, I encourage his solo trip over the wall. He’s such a good guy and needs his moments of peace. The “market” is St. Lawrence Market, a food and community emporium 20-minutes away by car. On Sunday mornings it’s opened up to pickers and antique dealers, a cast of colourful characters selling their wares.
My Renaissance man usually trolls for silver – old English vessels or silverware. He’s quite knowledgeable thanks to his parents and can decipher all those itty-bitty markings on the backs and bottoms.
Over the years, Graham has acquired lots of treasures for his collection and is now much more selective about what he adds (we have no more room). It’s really the thrill of the hunt that keeps him going (and a few moments of refuge from us). So instead of that Aha Ha find, he usually comes home with little trinkets for me. Nice.
So, the other Sunday this is what my dear brought back (total spend $9.00):
I love to take the market discoveries and put them to good decorating use.
Market day is always a good day.