Saturday @ the flea market...

This Saturday night it was late. My boys are in bed asleep, hubby also asleep. Church clothes laid out, bags packed, juice, chocolate milk sippy cups fixed and pop tarts for breakfast. All is quiet except for the swish of the washer, the clothes tumbling in the dryer and the steady whisper of the dishwasher. Yes, I am tired but my mind begins to drift...back to another Saturday many years ago!
I would imagine it was about this time of year, when winter is just upon us. About 5:30am, not yet daylight in a girls bedroom a alarm clock goes off. Yes it is me. I hit the snooze button and cover my head trying to get a few more minute's of sleep. Alarm going off again, this time mom walks in the door saying come on girls you got to get up Pappie will be here soon and you need to be ready to go. Slowly we climb out of bed and began to get dressed putting on clothes that already smell like pork skins and lard.:) Many layers I might add, first a tshirt, then long sleeves, a sweatshirt,jean skirt and maybe even leggings. Brush our teeth, wash our face, and of course pull that hair back into a ponytail! About this time a horn starts honking outside, there's Pap we say as we slip on our coats and tennis shoes. Grab a cooler mom has packed waiting by the door and we are off out the door. Opening the car door it squeaks and there is my Pappie with a smile and "good morning "!
Then we head off to the Sweetwater Flea market! Pappie would say something like, how are you doing this morning? I am fine just a little tired I reply. He would then say something like this "Early to bed, early to rise; late to bed, late to rise" then he would chuckle a little. As we ride along a little quietly he would began to whistle, the sun would began to rise. After a few minute's my sisters or I would say, Pappie tell us a story? Always eager to tell us a story he would start right in telling us how as a boy they walked everywhere, some about the war, some about his brothers and sisters and what they got for Christmas, about making slingshots with his cousin Vade, he had sooooo many stories!
There was just something about those stories! Laughter, trouble, sadness, but they were true, real life experiences! When Pappie told a story it was if you were in the story with him, everything came to life right before your eyes, and more often than not there was a lesson to be learned at the end of each story. Pappie taught us, through what he had experienced and learned all down through life. Well, before you knew it there we were at the flea market.
"We have a lot of work to do today girls" Pap would say. Each one hurried to do their jobs, so we could get the day started. First Pap got the grease turned on so it could get hot. We would put up the awnings and heat some water for our hot chocolate.:) Pretty soon he would start popping and sending pork skins down the homemade shoot from his building to ours. "Girls start bagging" , and we did. Next he would say "I want you to stack them high." Yes Pappie, we know (Stack them high and watch them buy, stack them low and sell them low!) We would all chime together. As we bagged pork skins we would eat a few of course. Hot salted pork skins and hot chocolate sounds gross to some but it was really good! "Eat all you want he would always say"! Next we did BBQ pork skins, then a few cracklins, then boiled and roasted peanuts. About then it would be lunch time and Pappie would come sit and take a break, and tell us a few more stories while we took turns going to lunch.
Walking into the flea market we knew almost everyone or so we thought at the time. One thing for sure they knew who we were; we were and always will Mr.Dishman's granddaughters! How proud that makes us feel even today. After a long hard day of work we would close up shop. Clean and put everything away. Pappie would count the money and pay us girls. He paid us good too, no matter how much business he had that day. Riding home I would slip my hand in Pappie's and it was so soft; I guess it was from all the grease he had used over the years. We begged for more stories, tell us about the "Monkey Ranch (Wrench)", or about our Daddy when he was a little boy? Before we knew it we were home again, it had slowly began to turn dark outside. As we got out we turned and said bye Pappie we love you; love you girls too and be good!
We walk into the house with tired feet and some money in our pockets, there was a good happy feeling deep inside. Many things we learned on a Saturday at the flea market with Pappie. Hard work really pays off because I have all these memories to cherish now. I realize now that life has speed by and my Pappie is gone, but never forgotten. So on Saturday I went out and shot BB guns with my boys and tomorrow I will try to tell them one of Pappies stories. He would be so proud of them, I hope I can pass some of his lessons down to them.
So if one Saturday you have nothing to do, think of who you might spend time with and pass something special on to them.