Day 2 of 3 of “keeping a sense of wonder”   — the nostalgic

As I mentioned on my previous post, I sometimes have to take myself out of my everyday habitat in order to find that sense of wonder.  I headed south for the weekend to Round Top, Texas, famous for their Antiques Week every spring and fall.    Ever since high school, I have liked to go to antique shops and flea markets.  I remember heading out by myself to the quirky antiques shop on the square in Honey Grove, or the trades day in Bonham.  I would wander around, not looking for anything in particular, but would always find weird old things that spoke to me.  Of course, these were just gateway junking experiences,  grooming me for my first dumpster-diving high during my freshman year of college.

In Round Top & Warrenton, there is always so much to look at. But as a DIY kind of girl, I prefer the fields of random junk over booths of prettied-up crafty things.  We found a little treasure amongst the piles of rust —  a momento to remind my husband of good times at his Grandma Ginny’s house.  He remembers sitting on a similar stool in her kitchen when he was a kid.  It’s still really sturdy – they don’t make ’em like they used to.  Now, if I can just figure out how she made her fudge so magical.

My main shopping mission this time was to find a set of lockers for my bathroom.   After scouring the grounds, I had found three possibilities — but there really was only one that I wanted.  So I stalked.  I approached.  I bargained.  I walked away.  I came back the next day when they were packing up.  I won.

These lockers remind me of the ones I had during junior high.  I love the click the latch makes when you pull it up to open the door and  the clanking metal when you close them.   All I need is a photo montage of Ricky Schroder, Kirk Cameron, Max Headroom, Molly Ringwald, Lisa Bonet and Cyndi Lauper on the inside door and it will be like time stood still.  (Hmmmm. Maybe that’s exactly what I’ll do…..)

I didn’t really have a sense of nostalgia when I first started exploring those flea markets and antique stores as a teen, because I’d only been around a handful of years myself.  But I did have a fascination with how previous generations used different objects, and I’ve always loved things made of wood and metal.  Maybe because I grew up in a generation made of plastic.   I didn’t realize at the time that those outings were my early “artist dates,” a time to let my inner artist daydream, imagine and play.  And looking at discarded treasures is still a source of inspiration for me.  And of wonder……