One of the adventures of the weekend was a visit to a large flea market.
We walked around the dusty stalls for a few hours and I was bombarded by the smell of leather, fried food, dirt and sweat. As people walked by speaking Chinese, French and Spanish, we stopped every few minutes to check for deals. You name it, it was for sale at this flea market.
You could even procure a single plastic hand encased in glass. Classy.
The sign below was posted over every tray of jewelry at one particular stand. The woman who stood there was hard faced and I could imagine her punching the lights out of anyone who dared mess with her goods.
After a full day, I took a walk with my grandmother before sitting down to record stories from both her and my great aunt's childhood.
They recalled the death of their sister Jane, whom I am named after (Allison Jane) and who died at the age of 16.
Grandma Geiser and Jane
My grandmother shared about the time her father was trying to make it into the house to use the bathroom. She heard him running up the porch stairs and as the front door slammed, he yelled, "Oh! Shit!" He didn't make it in time.
It was a memorable few days and a great way to spend one of my last weekends in the Sunshine State.
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1 comment:
Love it! I wish I had done that with my beloved Grandma, Virginia, before she passed. The stories she did tell were so amazing, I should have harvested them all.
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