Redwood Country Flea Market

I've been hitting this little gem since I was a little gem myself. Located just about two miles from my mother's house in Connecticut, Redwood should be filled with antiques and treasures, but each year it seems to be in steady decline from the days of my childhood in the 1980s (think of the old Dick and Ellie's in Mashpee, which is now a shopping plaza, or Elephant Trunk's in New Milford). Back then, I think I was shopping for jelly bracelets and plastic charms. Now Redwood seems to be filled with knock-off Sharpies from China (who needs that?), potted plants, and boxes of cheap shampoo. I don't even think there are any fake designer purses to be had anymore since the raid. I knew not even to bother to wake my husband up when my sister, her boyfriend, my brother, and I decided to head down the road to look for records.

I didn't even bring money.

And it was exactly what I expected, but the more I think about it, the more I think I am starting to love the junk as much as the gems. I won't even bother to tell you much about the legitimately cool stuff that one might consider buying, like Fat Albert comics; a hook rug picturing Bobby Kennedy, JFK, and MLK; Star Wars figures; Match Box Cars; Garbage Pail Kids; record albums; matchbooks and swizzle sticks; and UFO and Citizens' Band (CB Radio) magazines from the '60s! Instead, feast your eyes on these goodies, and try to tell me you don't love it:

The nostalgia for things really not that great, in the form of trading cards (gum, anyone?):




The mundane (until you realize that somebody must buy these things at a hot, dusty summer flea market, and then they become incredible):



The toys that I never had:



The soft, supple, and strange:


I did make one purchase, however, and I had to borrow a dollar from my sister to do so. Unfortunately, I think I forgot it at my mom's house in Connecticut.


One dollar! What a deal!

An Impromptu Chocolate Cake

On Saturday, I realized suddenly that I couldn't remember ever baking a cake from scratch. I was sure that it would be quite an undertaking, and I thought about making a list of things I'd like to cook someday, a list like my friend Theresa posted on her blog. Later that night, when Matt was out playing frisbee golf with our friend Nate, I was feeling a little restless, and I did not want to do laundry or sort clutter or read a book. I'd had a productive day that included washing the walls, cleaning the kitchen, my own round of frisbee golf, and a three mile jog, so I didn't want to do any work... but I still wanted a little project.

On a whim, I started surfing the Betty Crocker website, thinking I might find an interesting cake recipe, but I was surprised to find out that most of their recipes called for using Betty Crocker cake mix as a base.... Of course they do.

As I searched a little more, I realized that a basic yellow cake recipe actually is pretty basic. It just calls for a few ingredients that I probably could have predicted on my own: flour, baking powder, salt, sugar, shortening or oil, eggs, milk, and vanilla. In fact, everything I needed was already in my kitchen. I found a similarly simple chocolate frosting recipe (confectionery sugar, cocoa, butter, evaporated milk, and vanilla), so I sent Matt to the store for what I was missing for the frosting, and I was on my way.

Even though the recipe and the ingredients were simple, I was still under the impression that this would be complicated. But it wasn't. I didn't even need my KitchenAid mixer. It was easy, and when I tasted my cake batter, I knew it was right.

When I tasted my frosting, I knew that was right, too - but something else happened. In an instant, I felt myself back in my childhood, and I remembered right there my mom's homemade cakes and frosting. I never went around thinking my mom made cakes from scratch when we were kids, but as soon as I tasted that frosting, I knew she did. Maybe I didn't ever even realize what she was doing.

Such a simple little decision I made yesterday, and two great things happened. I realized (once again) that once you just get yourself started, most tasks aren't as daunting as they feel when they are squatting for weeks on end on your to do lists... an important reminder for a master procrastinator.

And, I remembered something great about my mom. I don't have as crystal clear of a memory of my childhood as I wish, but today one taste of homemade chocolate frosting made me remember and realize again how lucky I am.

Memories of Road Trips Past: An Homage to the United States

~ falling in love with a guitar player outside Cafe du Monde and a tour guide named Thom at Fallingwater ~ the knife stabbed into the table in the grocery on Grande Isle ~ Alfredo, with his catfish on a leash on the Rio Grande ~ those biscuits in Texas ~ being surrounded by bison in South Dakota ~ frozen ice at Niagara Falls ~ a room with no clock, no windows, no lock in Pennsylvania ~ a collapsed bridge detour that led to Hog Trough Liquors, Arkansas ~ the Spiral Staircase Store, Maine ~ spending Spring Break indoors ~ the red road ~ abandoned hot springs ~ lonely national parks with Senior Ranger Programs ~ sneaking pictures of signs, with eyes peering out from behind the curtain ~ local fabric stores ~ burros in the car window ~ watching Babel in bed instead of gambling ~ bathtubs and boats after a hurricane ~ the Blue Ridge Mountain Parkway, closed 20 miles in ~ sunsets in the badlands ~ hiking to an oasis in Joshua Tree ~ ice cream-offs ~ peanut butter chocolate shakes at Sonic ~ stepping on seal bones in Newfoundland ~ perfect stones ~ driving across northern Maine with no gas ~ searching for moose ~ Matt on a horse named Panther ~ rafting between the US and Mexico ~ coffee in Moab ~ walking a ridge in Utah ~ fearing mountains lions called javalinas ~ Hannah, the little girl who swept the camp and cared for her big sister ~ the French Creole family ~ getting spooked and ditching camp in Perdido Bay ~ masa ~ bookstores and bagels in Savannah ~ Miss South Carolina walking the wall in Charleston ~ Innervisions ~ trivial pursuit ~ inevitable snow on Colorado highways ~ that fried chicken sandwich in Memphis ~ never stopping at Graceland ~ Black Mesa Winery ~ hail in Canyonlands, Utah~ Cadillac Ranch and the giant cross ~ spying mountain goats ~ taking an egg up the Arch ~ HaHa Cemetary ~ risking the storms at Green Gardens, Gros Morne National Park ~ Petites ~ the floral b & b ~ abandoning the tiniest car ever ~ spotting the Stanley Cup in D.C. ~ mooning a nonexistent crater, reminiscent of the Alhambra ~ sidewinders by the car ~ traffic in Arkansas ~ ~ falling in love over a bottle of wine that you could keep in Maine ~