Who took my stuff ?!?!

Last weekend Keith and I decided we needed a break from the farm, so we took a mini-vacation and attended...The Small Farm Show in Columbia Missouri.  Yes, our horizons do need broadening.

On the way home we came through Memphis, Missouri and swung towards downtown to look for a mom and pop cafe. (We, just for the record, HATE Cracker Barrel.)  But before we found grub we found this

                                                           An auction about to begin.

Our pulses quickened, our mouths became suddenly dry . Could we ? Should we ?
Keep in mind my husband had recently brought home yet another truckload of  "inventory"  from his mother's recently sold house and I had knawed lightly on his gluteous about that.  How could I with good conscious suggest we attend this hoedown for hoarders ? I felt slightly guilty to even suggest we look , but I did.

We edged closer, pulled in by the possibility of great treasure, perhaps a new potato fork lurked behind the gold and olive green Tupperware of Carol Bradys time.

Hmmmm, not close enough. Are those tires on the wagon for SALE ? Or just for show ? We edged even closer hoping the locals would not see us. They might start moving the "good stuff" around. Hiding it behind the Suck and Cut home hair trimmer. Finally we were within the Circle of Fiends...

Oh man ! Just Look at it, Look at it  ! Look at it !  All that loot. I broke into song.

Old broken toys and  suitcases of plastic, half opened bottles of shampoo long gone spastic,  boots that are stylin'

And nuns that are smilin'

These are a few of my favorite (auction) things.

Before I go any further, does anyone else see that nuns eyes move as you look at herfrom different angles ? Good.  For a moment I thought it was just me having the Sister Mary Gerard  flashback.

 In the past when it came to auctions, it was said that Keith used me and I used him and neither one cared, BUT as the saying goes in our home lately,  "Someone quit her job  and that would mean LESS MONEY " So we snooped, and opened a few old purses looking for gold coins and then convinced ourselves that although we really WANTED the 30 year old microwave (fruit dryer ? storage unit for extra coffe cups? Funky Terraruim ? We did not really need it .

So like the strong willed folks we are, we walked away. Well I walked away, Keith laid down and kicked and screamed a little but I once spied on one of my teen boys from inside the local car wash, I wasn't above dragging a grown man down the main street in Memphis. (Insert badly rhymed country song here.)