Junkin' Gypsies

The ranch hand and his beautiful child bride are bona fide junkin' addicts.

Searching for that sweet nirvana provided by the roadside carnies of retail has long been a quest for that "best junk just down the road".

Ok, to be fair...most of our treasure emporiums have signs advertising "antiques", but they be junk purveyors to the ranch clan?

Palaces of the nature we seek are most often of the late 1800 to early 1900 variety with saggin porches, dirty windows....with a few old folks sittin' out front considered a plus (throw in a hound dawg and hmmmmmm!)

Today's adventure included a sojourn up US 183 to Lampasas where the local Kuntry Kitchen served yard eggs, home made grits, and smoky sausage patties that would make a hawg hug a hound.

Mopped up that feast with buttery biscuits and sashayed on North to Goldthwaite to walk roun' the county courthouse square while eyeballin' the dusty interiors of the empty buildings with cornerstones denoting dates around the turn of the century.

Turned East to Evant and grinned while inspecting all three business establishments in that booming metropolis. All of the antique/junk stores had their doors wide open (no A/C) and one of them even had a person in the store to "wait" on folks (One has to reckon that crime ain't much of an issue in Evant...and the "honor system" is alive and well?)

Continued East to Gatesville where the local hat dealer had a huge selection of manly head gear (western only) to the tune of maybe four styles in a couple of sizes. Felt like a junkin' pro to find and purchase a prize that fit the ole fat boy!!

Motored to Waco and turned North to Elm Mott to visit the Homestead Heritage to shop "stuff" made by local artisans with hand tools the "Amish" way. Glommed onto the ultimate "find" there with the acquisition of a blacksmith hand forged triangle and striker for the ranch chuck wagon.

Finally headed the ranch pony South toward the bunkhouse, but stopped just short in Florence when we noticed the 100 year old hardward store had become a western wear shop. Hoo-ee-doggie....roped up a red bandana near two foot on a side for the eye-poppin' price of one U.S. dollar (icing on the cake).

Now back at the ranch suckin' on a col' adult beverage while basking in the self assured glory of a great day on the road "junkin" and the blessing of our "finds"

Damn, retired life is good!