to market, to market

no fat pigs bought. i went to sell off old clothes (i buy too many) and books (i somehow acquire too many) and jewellery (the earrings i made out of bread tags and guitar picks went to a thrilled twelve year old) at a car boot sale. to raise money for the 'i want new curtains for the kitchen but cannot justify them' fund. i managed to park myself across from a really lovely guy i go to uni with (given my course, i don't really get on with many people i see regularly) who was helping his girlfriend raise money to do charity work in costa rica.

i bought a chair. it was not my fault. the chair called me. he was $10. i wandered off to think about it. i went back to buy, and the guy selling it told me someone had offered $20. i was mournful. but that person never came back! so just before the market closed, i got my chair. here he is, with part of anatolia's second sleeve:


just stunning, no? never mind that i will inevitably end up with an ikea dining table-ette (did i mention that i got the place i applied for? and that it is in fact a shoebox?), a matching ikea chair, and my odd chair. it is really firm, not at all wobbly. remnants of red paint that has since been stripped all over. i think i will varnish it with something low gloss, though, because it is rather raw right now.

i was really strong and didn't buy the 1950s/60s aqua sewing machine in working order with a travel case. and i didn't even look through the professional bookersellers' stalls for zimmerman.