This morning we went to our first antiques and collectible fair. See, all the other expats have a hobby of hording over-priced old junk as a way of infusing local culture into their homes. I've been to two functions now where women have sat about gossiping about the great deals they have found and how they managed to come about them. So, in self preservation and personal interest, I needed to know a little something about it to. Never should one find herself at a hen party and lack the necessary small talk filler in her repertoire.
All in all. It was a bunch of silver, jewlery, gaudy figurines, old tidbits from barns and garages, and some waxed up old furnisher. People were oggling and quietly observing. We were on the fast look and dash route with Olive in tow, but did manage to nab one random Christmas gift while there. Olive's highlights included going up and down the stairs at the Rowley Mile's paraide circle (the venue was one of the racecourses in town) and looking at very expensive antique rings that glittered and called her name. The man who's stall it was kept answering her questions to which stones were which. Afterward we were told she had exquisite but very expensive taste.
Oh what our future holds.