First thing Saturday I drove a half hour to the Mesa Marketplace flea market. TomTom sent me a half mile in the wrong direction. Should have been a sign. At 7:30 the vendors were just opening up. It's a huge place with a permanent roof, but all the vendors were selling new and crappy stuff. Doesn't really get busy until 9 a.m., they said.
One guy tipped me to a smaller market a few miles away. That one was way funkier but I didn't find anything. There were actually a few of the vendors I prefer, the guys set up in the parking lot with card tables. One had a Taurus stainless 5-shot snub nose for sale in .45 Colt, but the price seemed high at $450. Then I noticed another shopper, a guy in a motorized wheelchair, was packing a sizable automatic.
Don't screw with the crippled guy. I'm still looking for that perfect flea market.
A cat wandered out of one sale tent and toward another, which caused great consternation and much barking by the Scottie a few tents away. The vendor said that cat teases his dog every week.
On the way back from Mesa stopped by Bob's Motorcycle, a vendor of Harley parts down in what I would otherwise call the "Gentleman's Club" district south of the airport. As I walked in a big cat stood by the door. He accepted a bit of ear scratching from me. The lady behind the counter couldn't have been nicer, but could deal with just one customer at a time and I was just looking.
The Harleys on the floor made it almost impossible to walk around. That was OK, because my nose quickly told me the privileges of shop feline included a kitty version of the freedom of the open road: go where you wanna go.
On the way back I stopped by a car show near the ASU campus. Met a couple of guys showing their Honda CBX bikes, and got this photo of a restored balloon tire bike.
Back at the Condo, we received a visit from Heather, the daughter of Pamela's cousin Debbie, and her five-month-old daughter Ula. Wish I'd gotten a picture--what a sweetie. We had a nice long talk about Phoenix (Heather and Mark moved here from Seattle five years ago) and babies.
Pamela roasted a pork loin for dinner and we fell asleep on the couch watching a program about anacondas. During the night it rained; the gutter at the back corner of the condo, next to the bedroom, was rattling like a snare drum with the water falling three stories from the roof. I've already dreamed up a fix.
A few pictures: a shot of the front of the condo. Our unit is on the second and third floors, with windows on the left side and back over the garage. We've seen some really cool houses; here are two in our neighborhood just a block away.
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