The Only Time I Love Fleas

I really planned to wait until the end of the week to blog about this, but I can’t stop thinking about it. So here’s what you get: First Mondays Canton, Texas. A once-a-month giant flea market that we’ll be visiting this Saturday. I’d tell you that I’m dragging Kyle along for the sake of his pride, but it honestly didn’t take much coercing.

About 40 miles east of where we now live, there’s a quasi-magical land of old things. 28 miles of walkways wind through buildings and tents filled with possibility. There are new things of course, but I pass them by and brush the dirt off the old things, dreaming of ways to give them a new identity. And my apartment, one piece at a time, will become a home. I took a girls trip to Canton right before we got married, and my gorgeous friend Shari (also our wedding photographer) captured these great shots. As they say, one man’s trash is something Jen will take home with her. Something like that.