okay…now i feel bad,,,but not that bad…my husband has defended himself in response to all the male bashing junk shopping husband comments…or whatever i wrote. i feel like i need to stick up for ron a little here. i must admit…we (not just me) couldn’t wait until the weekends to scour german villages in quest of old crap that needed a freecycle in my basement. ron drove the big truck and i begged for him to stop at every pile in search of more terra cotta planters than i could shake a gnome at. of course i would get the dreaded question…”how many of those things do you need? we have enough already.” and sometimes ron would just drive away….leaving my visions of mosiac pots unattended. oh well. but ron was very tolerant of all the other crazy crap i drug home….old linens, silverware, pictures, picture frames, depression glass, fancy rose plates, shrunks, stools, chairs, chairs, chairs, chairs, oh…and more chairs, sleds, tiles, planters, old dolls…sometimes BAGS of them. old bears…we once found a bag of them filled with rat poop. did that deter my hubby from continuing down the road of junking bliss….not one bit and left me smitten with a junk co-dependency that took me from one side of a german village to another w/out a fight (but many bribes) or a complaint about what i did put in the back of the truck. …..
for that junking buddy hubby….THANKS SOOOO MUCH. now stop complaining of the flower frogs and yards of fabric and lace, many strange back yard oddities …. like the rocking playground horse my fairy junk mother gave me (i WILL find a use for it!!!) and big, crazy doll heads. wait???? i guess you really DON’T complain. it takes a REAL man to live with a junker. a man who lives among prom dress, vintage hats with enormous PINK flowers, tons and tons of girly statues, lace, froo froo, puffy crap and rhinestones and that endless supply of stinky, smelly, yummy candles. poor guy. he only has one little room (not including his WC where there are still traces of flowers and vintage talc powder bottles) where he can escape. there is a shed filled with bugs, bike parts, tools and cast off hunting stuff (of course it has all been overrun my my junk), but other than that….it’s pretty much this man’s home is not his castle, but his girly B&B. oh well. i guess my family has adjusted well to my diverse sense of style and passion for the rare and unique…junking buddy hubby included!!!
BUT……I STILL MEAN IT WHEN I SAY….don’t take the hubby and the kids with you when you want to go to the flea market. hee hee!!! keep those comments coming ladies….don’t even feel bad. i don’t feel bad. my husband is just playing around anyway. i thought i would give him a little plug. i guess he deserves it.