The long and winding road and a Hot Destination.

We heard about a flea market about 20 miles from home , so we thought we would check it out today.

Took the backroads to get there.

It has been raining a LOT lately…

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We went to Rose’s restaurant for breakfast.

Rose’s Deli used to be in Portland and it was the ultimate deli.

This place is part of the chain of Rose’s was in a strip mall and it was an awful breakfast.

Kevin, our server, introduced himself.

That should have been a warning.

I ordered corned beef  hash.

I got large diced potatoes with red peppers and onions and ham.

Oh, and the burned toast was cold.

The spouse got the same potatoes – minus the onions and red peppers, but on his plate they were called hashbrowns.

The two eggs over-hard were rubbery and cold.

Oy vey.

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Went to a Goodwill store that I had not been to before – but unfortunately I felt like I HAD been there before –

because I saw many items that were re-tagged from stores that I have already been to recently.

This little handpainted tourist dish has the hint of the green tag from the previous store.

Empty shells for canned snails.

Sounds like the name of a song.

$2.99

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I had been wanting to go Victor’s European Meat Market and today was the day as it was just 1/2 mile from

the flea market that was our destination.

It was a small shop in strip mall.

Victor has the reputation of being like the Soup Nazi from an old Seinfeld show.

I found him to be an OK sort of fellow.

(He even said goodbye to me in Russian…)

I told him I wanted spicy Hungarian Sausage and he said they have 3 kinds.

I told him I wanted 3 pounds of the spiciest!

($5.99 per pound)

Got in the car and ripped open the paper wrap and tried the sausage.

OMG!

SPICY!

OMG!

GREAT!

OMG!

SPICY SPICY SPICY!

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Then we found the flea market.

Icky sort of place.

Nothing special.

Uh,  right….

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Saw a Corvair in the parking lot.

It reminded me of the one my dad had when I was young.

A Corvair Monza Spyder.

My brother tried to teach me to drive a manual transmission in that car.

My first lesson driving the Corvair, we got to the top of a hill that had a stop sign.

That was too overwhelming for me.

I just put the car in neutral – put on the emergency brake and walked home.

(well, “walked” might have been more like “stomped” home.)

It was many many years before I learned to drive a stick shift.

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Home again home again…

I probably should take the moss off the mailbox – but is it just so dang pretty.