I found the flea market with little effort, but it was pretty small. Not to be dissuaded, I went on in to have a rummage. My glass sense was just going crazy. I just knew there had to be some glass around here. Mountain people keep everything. There was no one in the yard sale section, which was very disappointing. But it was overcast and kind of looked like rain.
I went back inside to see what I could see, and after a discouraging start, I hit the motherload. I came up to the booth of a woman who had apparently bought every piece of glass in the county for the last 20 years. Tons of glass, arranged by pattern, and piled haphazardly in dusty stacks. She also had an amazing assembly of Blue Ridge Pottery; easily the most I have ever seen at one time. But then it was made right around here, so it would figure there would be more here than most places. She must have had every piece she had ever put in the booth, and I discovered why in short order. The price stickers were so old that I could barely read them. Some of the pen marks had faded out completely, which was probably a mercy. From the prices I could read they were shockingly high, mostly at full old book prices or generously above. I looked through some of it, as the woman watched me, breathing noisily (she apparently was suffering from emphysema). Eventually, though, I had to concede defeat as far as finding a bargain. I was very disappointed. She had some lovely pieces, but she didn't seem too keen to sell them from the prices she was asking.
I was about to head home when I saw a small sign for another flea market. I pulled a quick u-turn and headed to check it out. This flea market was actually just two buildings. It was pretty junky looking from the outside, and frankly didn't look very promising, but sometimes those junky places are where you make the best finds. So I went in for a rummage.
Once again, I was really surprised by the prices. There was a good deal of black amethyst glass, but I don't know enough about the pricing to buy it, and it was pretty high. I was struck again by the plethora of a pattern called "Fruits". I don't usually see anything but cups and saucers, and then one pair at a time generally, but there was a bunch of it here. There had been at the first place as well. I don't care for the pattern, but it's always interesting to see something unusual, particularly in numbers. The front building was really more of an antique store. I went out to the rear building, which was a lot more jumbled and promising. Well it was junky anyway, but the prices were almost as aggressive as the first building on the few pieces I found. I was pretty much ready to go, and disappointed, but sometimes the price of good glass finds is constant vigilance.
I decided to hit the last table before I left. And then I saw something that made my heart speed up. It was the distinctive pattern of Beaded Block. I love Beaded Block, but I rarely see any of it, and when I do it's usually the ubiquitous cream and sugar. I have one clear bowl in it that I bought years ago, but I have yet to see but one colored piece, and I'm still kicking myself for not buying it. It was a lovely green stemmed jelly I saw years ago in Hendersonville... But I digress. This was a pair of bowls, casually stacked on a table, in iridescent clam broth. Clam broth is a rare color, but not usually very pricey because it isn't that pretty really (when compared to pink, green, and cobalt anyway); but in the iridescent, in this gorgeous pattern, it was lovely. It was also marked as if the woman didn't know what it was - both bowls for $10. I literally said "Oh My God." under my breath when I saw them. I looked them over, and they seemed to be in good shape. These bowls have "nappy" edges, or little teeth that run all around. They are devilishly easy to chip, but these felt good (fingers are generally much better at finding chips than eyes), except for one tiny rough spot. The iridescent finish, which damages easily, appeared to be in great shape (except for a sticky label in the bottom of one of the bowls - grrrrr). I usually don't buy iridescent pieces because the finish is fussy, and sunlight fades it. When you use them, you can't wash them with dish-washing detergent either. But these were really pretty and exceptional. I confirmed with the woman that both bowls were $10 and paid her. I was so excited when I went to wrap them (she let me wrap them myself, which suited me just fine) I almost dropped one.
On the way home, the afterglow was so good I just had to have a cigarette. I threw Ethel Merman in the stereo and had myself a little celebration. The clouds had blown off, and it was a gorgeous fall morning. The leaves were changing, the air was crisp, the sun was shining and all was right with the world.
The view from my car on highway 421 during the return trip from the flea market. Even the highways are beautiful in the mountains at this time of year.
I got back to the house about 11am, and Granny was just up good. They hadn't even had breakfast yet. I hopped inside and pulled my finds out excitedly to show them off. While I was unwrapping, I commented to Granny about how surprised I had been by the pricing. "Honey," she said "those people are used to the tourists coming through here on the way to Boone. They'll pay anything." Of course. So much for my hopes of finding country people cleaning out grandma's attic. These people knew as much as (or more than) I do about antiques and the values thereof. Dammit. Instead of a real flea market, I had stumbled into what was basically a clip joint. I should have been clued in by the visibility from the highway. But the people had been really nice, and it had been an interesting trip.I was still glowing with triumph when Mom, examining the bowls, said "This one has a chip. Oh, so does this one." And sure enough, my prizes both had big chunks out - not of the tiny teeth at the top, where you would expect, but at the base. I couldn't believe I missed that - what a rookie mistake! I had just been so excited. But since both bowls are book priced at $35 each, they are still probably worth at least $15 each, with the price drop, and allowing for the chips. Plus they are really beautiful, unusual pieces, and if you're using them, chips at the base aren't really noticeable. So I was still pretty stoked about the find.
The view from Granny's porch, looking out over the mountains
I put the bowls in just water to soak the (grrrrr) sticker off and clear off some of the dust. We fixed breakfast and had a leisurely meal, having coffee and talking. I love breakfast; and breakfast at Granny's is always late and sociable. Afterwards I talked Granny onto sitting out on the porch for a while. They have a great wrap-around porch on two sides of the house. It's an old house, and the porch is nice and deep, with plenty of comfy rockers. The day was beautiful and unexpectedly warm. We had a nice porch sit, and Granny caught me up on all the neighbors.
Another view from Granny's porch, looking up the street of her neighborhood.
Eventually, it started getting a little cool, and we went on in the house for a bite of lunch. The Mother and I went on to the grocery store for Granny. We picked out stuff for dinner and bought the things on her list. We also went to another market to get some delicious white sweet potatoes. There weren't many but we were able to buy pretty much what we wanted. Mom and I are both crazy about them and they are hard to find, but up in the mountains they have them at the grocery store if you know where to look.By the time we got back and got everything unloaded it was time to start supper. Mother put a chicken on to cook and made chicken and dumplings for granny. I cooked the broccoli and whipped up some cheese sauce and we had a nice late meal. After cleaning up the kitchen we had a good long talk, and then coffee and pie. We watched the 11pm news. But by midnight, Mother and I were both fading, and we decided to turn in.
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