Rose Bowl Flea Market

Some coworkers of mine were on the West Coast last week conducting a press check for one of the publications our company wrote and designed. I had called one of the gals, Courtney, on Sunday morning to follow-up on some business and she told me that the day would be a non-working day for them and she and another coworker were meeting up in the lobby of the hotel and heading off to the Rose Bowl Flea Market.

When I lived in Southern California, going to outdoor flea markets was a cheap weekend event. I'd pack up the car with baby, stroller, food and drink and we'd head out and spend the day in the sun, walking the row after row of vendors. We didn't have much money back then, so buying was not really an option. And so a flea market trip was more like a walk through a museum or gallery, viewing the beautiful "art," stopping to study and dream about what I would do with a chance to buy whatever I wanted to. The Rose Bowl Flea Market was a one-time visit for us, being quite a drive from our home in Huntington Beach. But I remember the huge number of vendors, the colorful tents, the people with wagons and carts, everyone enchanted by the surroundings and not wanting it to end.

And so Courtney, knowing that I'd rather be with them at the Rose Bowl Flea Market than anywhere else, went on a mission to find me a treasure, and came back with not only this lovely little Wedgewood plate, but the ticket from the Market. Is this girl a gem or what?