SUMMARY: Brief visit after the flea market.Correction: Next morning, 8:30 a.m.: Oops, got the anniversary year wrong. Fixed below (in red).
I needed to drop something off at my parents' place, and since they live just a couple of miles from the flea market, I headed up there yesterday right after fleeing the fleaing.
Dad was out raking up leaves, but the tree and the wind were conspiring to throw down more even as he worked. He didn't mind, and also didn't go back for the new ones. He's not one to let mere trees dictate his activities.
At Christmas, there's always a wreath on the outside of the front door.
And, on the inside, there's always a set of real jinglebells, from my mom's grandfather's sleigh.
Inside--oh, look, my seeester and her husby from the flea market dropped by, too, and are checking out Mom's birthday cards.
I needed to mosey on off into the sunset--well, actually only 11:00, and it was raining, but their street's autumn colors gave me a good sunset-colored sendoff anyway.
Happy Holiday prep to all of you, whichever holidays you prefer to celebrate.