Flea Market

After a break from blogging, I’m back at it again.  A lot has gone on since my last blog post and I feel like a big update is in order.

Let me just say that I was toying with the title of this blog post and was tempted to throw all caution to the wind and title it, “I lost my sanity when the calm, sane, organized, peaceful train of progress I was on, plowed through the next stop named Crazy and kept right on going to our ultimate destination of Permanent Insanity.”

By now, you know that I don’t have the ability to write a brief blog post so consider this post a Table of Contents for your week of blog post updates.

The Vintage DIY Wedding Boycott

(aka: Wedding Cake Criminals)

When we left off, I became engaged to Mr. Old House Chic in May of 2015.  If you missed it, I wrote about the heist I had to carry out with my best friend in order to keep the engagement a secret until I could travel from Denver, Colorado where I live, to the Dallas Fort Worth area, where all of my family lives.   I had to juggle getting off of work, buying plane tickets, arranging a ride from the airport and getting to my Mom and sister before the news could get there first.  I pulled it all off (I still don’t know how that happened…) and then began to plan for my wedding in April of 2016.  I thought I was going to plan a beautiful Vintage DIY Wedding…but no.

An Overflow of Opportunities

I thought it was going to be a calm summer.  I would just participate in one upscale antique/ vintage/salvage market per month and be done.  See, nice and peaceful…but no.  Remember this:  whoever came up with the quote, “When one door closes, another opens” must have lived in a padded cell where they were inspired by the safety protocol at their sanitorium: “Only one door open at a time or else the humans with the problems will bolt.”  Here’s how that particular quote should really read:  “When one door opens, more than likely an internal switch will malfunction and they ALL open or they ALL slam shut.  So, pack well with a pair of running shoes (to sprint through one of the many open doors) and a camp chair (to get comfortable until maintenance can fix that damn switch).”

The Help

After finally hitting the limits of what I could do without cloning five more versions of myself (could one of them cook please?!),  I finally had to let go and take a chance on hiring some help…and I know you aren’t going to be the least bit surprised that The Help wound up being a fantastically, crazy group of women that deserve a blog post all their own to introduce them to you…

Be looking for these four updates each in their own post…

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