PK, two of the three pigs and myself will be joining in that great time honored tradition and visiting the button free land of Shipshewana today. We are hitting the flea market in search of glory.
Ok, not so much glory, but I do have a list to help guide me away from the beaded t shirts. I don't know why I am so tricked by those. It's like I am overwhelmed by bad taste, and then I just bend to peer pressure and buy something tacky.
I am bribing the pigs with the promise of broasted chicken and ice cream. Actually it's because of the broasted chicken at the Shipshewana flea market that I don't eat chicken, pork, or beef or fish. You could say vegetarian, but I can't stop eating shellfish. They aren't even fish, they're really more like insects. Anyway, PK got a hold of some not so fully cooked chicken, and just kept eating around the raw parts. Yep, and I'm the one who gave my kids old cream cheese.
As for yarn, I have heard rumors of it at Shipshewana, but I have never actually eye spied any. It may have to do with evil, or Melissa's fears are correct, you have to pick between sewing and knitting.