Tucked way back off the road was this old, rustic building that looked like a junk shop. Our type of shop.
I could see some good old rust and crust treasures outside of the shop.
And once we entered the building, we could see that it was stuffed to the rafters with all types of vintage and antique goodness.
The owner was as unique as the items he's collected over the years.
Big guy. Bib overalls. Long hair and a beard. And as smart and as nice as they come!
He knew his history and he knew the actual worth of all his items.
He was one serious collector and everything was for sale. Well, almost everything.
On the far end of that porch was a glider. A two seater. Rustic, yet cute as a button.
Hmmm...I never seem to have enough seating in our backyard that overlooks the lake.
"So how much for that little glider on the front porch?" I ask.
He says, "Sorry, but that belongs to my wife and she won't sell it. She still likes to sit on it in the evenings."
Well, that's disappointing. I was sure I heard that little glider calling my name. Oh, well! As long as someone still appreciates it.
Maybe someday, another little glider will find me and want to go home with me. Someday.