Mrs. Bucket: “In all the years you’ve been saying your going to get out of that bed, I’ve yet to see you set foot on the floor.”
Grandpa Joe: “Maybe if the floor wasn’t so cold.”
These words posted on my kitchen inspiration wall have been calling to me lately. Especially after my long bout with the flu, I–like Grandpa Joe to Charlie’s golden ticket–needed something to latch on to. Something to get me out. Something to give me life.
So I made a pact with myself. A pact to say yes. If anyone asked or if anything seemed even remotely interesting to me, my answer was decided. And though there were times I wanted to answer with, “Maybe if the floor wasn’t so cold.” I said yes.
Which lead me–last Saturday–to the Phoenix Flea Market. I said yes. A decision that then lead to an impromptu family reunion of sorts when Rick, some of our kids, my mom, and two of my sisters with some of their family members said yes too.
(not everyone made it into the picture)
Though the flea market didn’t turn out to be everything that I hoped it would, saying yes has taught me that things don’t have to turn out perfectly to make it worth turning out. I loved being outside (in the warm weather), I loved seeing my family, and I loved looking at all of the vintage clothing (there were a lot of vintage clothing booths at the market).
And learning that clothes from my youth are now considered “vintage”, was kind of funny and didn’t bother me a bit.
Especially because I got to haggle for this Breakfast Club t-shirt and haggling’s my favorite sport.
This morning my sister texted me an ad for another flea market later this month. And instead of the usual, “That sounds fun. I don’t know. Let me see if I can work it out.” I said yes.
Because cold floor or not, life’s too short to wait around for golden tickets.