Yesterday morning, Al and I went to the Melville Carpark Markets. I’d never been there before, and while I suppose it’s not that different to most carpark markets, we definitely got there earlier than I’ve ever been to markets on a Sunday (although later than Al would have liked… pfft!) and there was a pretty good selection of wares.
What really fascinates me about these markets is that it’s a kind of voyeurism. It’s almost like we’re peering into people’s homes. I don’t know about you, but I love it when people leave their curtains drawn at night and I can sneak a peek into their home, into their lives. Of course I try not to make my stickybeaking overt, but I find it so fascinating to see how other people live.
Carpark markets are kind of like this. You can see into people’s homes, except you don’t see the home itself. You can even catch glimpses of their history, to a degree, when their wares display a degree of age, gender and ethnicity.
But what I loved most was the old glassware and crockery. Some of it was very beautiful and the evident age only made it the more attractive. And it makes me wonder what meals were served on those plates, and what dinner-time conversations were held over those meals. Who sat together over a cup of tea, with those teacups and saucers? What confidences were shared? What joys and trials and tribulations were discussed over those cups, glasses, dishes, plates, all those years ago?
Al, however, seemed most interested in the plants and we came away with sage, mint and… something else. Argh I am such a bad girlfriend, not remembering the plants he bought! I’m sure I’ll remember as soon as I’ve posted this!
We were only there for an hour or so but it was a most enjoyable time and I have a feeling if I’d been on my own I would have indulged myself with more than one useless item. :-)
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