Lovely Rubbish

Greetings,

Today was supposed to be a day filled with adventuresome touring about the Kent countryside. However, I diverted, much to Harry’s dissatisfaction, towards a more modern site.

Shopping.

Before starting out my day towards Kent, which would include more castles, the castle of Anne Boleyn, the loveliest castle in the world Leed’s, Down’s House where Charles Darwin wrote On the Origin of Species, and Chartwell the childhood home of Winston Churchill. Full day huh?

Well, the day started with me popping across the street for a few snacks and directions from the tourism office. Remembering to look the opposite direction…cars are on the opposite side of the road, therefore oncoming traffic from the opposite direction. Did that make any sense? Anyway, I needed a map. Not that you nor I will ever tell Harry, but I did get “turned around” several times yesterday. Not lost. Turned around.

Beside the tourism office was a cutesy little store called, The British Red Cross. Um, a blood drive? Not that I am a willing participate... needles scare me. The building is painted fire engine red and gleaming in the beautiful day today. Perfect driving weather I really should hurry and be on my way. Except as I pass by the window, I see what’s actually inside. Not blood. Thank God not blood or neddles. But stuff. Things. Lots and lots of things.

I decide to go inside to investigate further. The love of Agatha Christie coming out in me. And inside….. I find my favorite past time in the entire world….. “junk” store shopping. Second hand roundup. Thrift store heaven. Dumpster diving. Rubbish Gathering. Whatever you call it. I love the hunt of finding a hidden treasure amongst muck. The old cliché remains the same; “One mans junk is another man’s treasure. O, happy day!

Except here, the merchandise looks lovely. Does not have that rancid odor sometimes common with our junk. I see the store clerk in the back employees lounge steaming the clothes. What? Steaming junk clothes? That's when I realize this is not a normal US junkstore. This my friends, is a British version. And they do things the "proper" way. I see stacks and stacks of books.

My second love in this world is old books. Books that smell old. Books tarnished from their age. Books that need tender care just to turn the page and not damage the delicacy of aged paper. I love them. Love the smell, texture, and look of a finely aged bound cover. I also love foreign books. Or at least US books with foreign covers.

So it dawns on me I have seen several of these kinds of charity stores up and down the street. So I make my purchases and head up the street in search for a good cause. You see,…Harry hates junk stores. He hates everything about them. The most disturbing fact is that I would pay money for someone else’s discarded rubbish. But here in Britain….the junk stores are supporting a worthy cause… so how could he complain, right? I am doing it for charity!

I peruse the several different shops up and down High Street. (I think they call streets High like we use Main. They are in every town.) Buy a few things. Then decided I might need to stop before a second piece of return luggage is needed. I should stop but, we do not have these at home. Greece or at least Souda has no concept of thrift stores. It could be that Cretans never discard anything. They just toss it in their backyard?

Walking back towards the hotel I see another modern marvel in my eyes.

Flea Market.








Be still my beating heart. The Lewes Flea Market. More junk. Walls and walls of old junk. British junk. I walk through the aisles mesmerized by the wonderment I have stumbled upon. I touch trinket after trinket. Knick-knack after glorious knick-knack. I can barely contain myself. But I had to. I must find a Post Office… and soon. Too many Victorian and Edwardian pieces needing a good home.


My home.

** Idea given to me by my niece.** While on a shopping trip, she told my mother…

“Mammie, that baby looks lonely.”

“She does?”

“Yeah, but I think she would be okay if I took her home with me.”

“She would?”

“Yeah, see how sad she is without a girl to take her home.”

(Thanks Maddie for the idea.)

So as I write this…. There are several pieces of furniture and lost keepsakes lying lonely on the shelves of Lewes Flea Market. I will have to show them to Harry later and then find them a good home tomorrow. And a good shipping company. And a second roll bag.

Man, I have a new love for Lewes. I may never leave Lewes for the rest of our stay. Harry will be pleased I’m sure.

Blessings to those seeking hidden treasures,
Kristie

(p.s. You like all the British terms I’ve been using!)