my favourite thing...

Riddle: I spend my Saturday mornings tearing across a grassy field in my scruffiest clothes alongside like-minded individuals who I am none-the-less competing aggressively against. Its a great social experience but I'm there primarily for the win. Afterwards, I collapse, content and exhausted, into the long green grass and mull over the triumphs of the morning. I bemoan the one that got away. I gloat over the sneaky victory. I replay the key moments in my mind.

And yet I hate football, or any sport, for that matter.

Guessed it yet? I'm talking about Car Boot Sales. That glorious British tradition of stuffing a car full of junk and offloading it onto a bargain hunter such as myself after the exchange of hard-won cash. 

Here is my beloved York Racecourse car boot,
 viewed from the corner of the field
where I was sunning myself with my haul. 

Always an abundance of tea-cups

Who remembers tupperware?

[see first photo for this weeks trophies, including an antique antler complete with natural post-fight wonky mend, vintage post office sacks from train mail cars, and the most austere of grey square boxes on which is simply stamped 'please return to Carmelite monastary, Preston'. I can only assume this is not a plea to a runaway monk/primate[why are high-catholic officials called primates but monks don't get to be called monkeys-the world makes no sense].

p.s. If you like the look of my organic, neutral toned antique finds, head over to my vintage shop www.yorkvintage.co.uk or pop in to my mini-shop at The Flax and Twine on The Shambles, York [where I am selling the lush yellow embroidered linen laundry bag, amongst other treasures]