SIDE SALAD - Everything crunchy is good.

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With the weather so beautiful, I might head out today to the Ruskin Flea Market. Ruskin's a little town on the southeast shore of Tampa Bay that's been mostly a farming and immigrant community but which is slowly becoming a bedroom suburb for Tampa commuters. It's also Florida's tomato capital, producing juicy, red, ripe tomatoes.

Anyway, they have a flea market that gets a good amount of traffic on the weekends. People drive up from Manatee County and down from the retirement community of Sun City Center, all in search of a deal.

I went down a while ago. And like all flea markets, this one had it's requisite amount of crap.

Something for the satanic golfer in your life?

Ah, the "special" dolls table. Always a favorite.

How cute! Baby Elvis appears to be in a Darvocet coma.

A watch table at a flea market only serves to remind the shopper of how much time they are wasting looking at watches at a flea market.

Nice to see they're "fully guaranted." That speaks to integrity. Not to mention the accuracy of the timekeeping.

The polar bear looked so lifelike. I'm sure that if he could speak, he'd say:

"Kill me now."

Here's a cozy little nook. What's that sign say?

One sign of getting older is when you post a needlepoint-by-numbers aphorism at the flea market.

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Nice stitching, Rambow.

Say hello to my little crap.

Posted by Jeff at May 15, 2005 10:33 AM | TrackBack