genetics.

Junking is in our blood.

I am a junker.

I love old and kinda dirty anything...

well not men.

But you know what I mean.

My grandma took us to the junkyard weekly 

and we drug home tons of projects.

When my kids were little 

I attended a weekly auction and got super stuff.

After I opened my antique shop and 

started doing shows, 

I upgraded to better and better stuff.

Some of it may still look like junk

but trust me, it isn't.

Antiques hold their value 

so when you trade or sell

you get your money back and then some.

It is the new green.

Now my girls love it too.

They have a business

Ethel Edith

named after my mom.

Today Annie, Maggie and I

plus the babies and Caroline

went junking.

They are having a Christmas show 

and we needed to get some goods.

I was pumped.

I am loving this cooler weather..

it makes me wanna go flea-ing.

I threw on my hoodie,

my cropped boyfriends

and my hard-soled mocs.

Notice anything?

 I didn't until 45 minutes later.

I was crawling in the truck and Maggie says

"Mom,  your shoes are on the wrong feet!"

 They were in hysterics.

I was incredulous.

No way.

Oh yeah, way.

 Help me. 

 The right/better way...

Then I remembered 

I went rummaging with my mom

 a few years ago.

We are hot in pursuit of great stuff

when I stop and I look over at Mom.

Something is wrong.

Oh...

she has her coat on upside down.

Seriously, upside down!

We died. 

She said it felt funny.

Ya think?

Now,

this is Everett  90 % of the time.

Hmmm, genetics?

You're welcome Ev.

208. a work-out buddy
227. a cool night
168. a knock knock joke