It took us the full two hours to unpack boxes and fill the tables. The goods were organized in general topic areas, but not slavishly so. There were tables full of Christmas and Halloween items, tables with dishes, glasses, games, and such, a front table with copper cups, plates, and other gems, and an area in the middle with large and admittedly sometimes strange things.
We arrived for work at the Phillipston school gym a bit before eight in the morning. Within a few minutes, some early flea-marketers were innocently seeking entry, well ahead of our ten o'clock opening time.
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| Someone will likely pay dearly for this piece |
and soon filled the hall.
The rain started shortly after we opened up and fell steadily, often heavily, for much of the day.
In spite of the bad weather, the church made $3000.
2 comments:
We were there but didn't see you.
Asked where you were, no one knew you.
Small town huh?
Yep, small town are interesting places. If they know you, they know pretty much everything about you. If they don't, you don't exist at all.
In New England small towns, existence isn't a right; it's an earned privilege.
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