who says running doesn't pay?

Tom's winning check for the half marathon arrived this week.

If it were a $5 check, maybe we would frame it.

Yesterday was the St. Rose fiesta, which has the biggest flea market for miles around. People line up by 7:00 to be the first in the door when it opens at 8:00. I waited until about 9:00, but still came away with a brand new vegetable steamer for $5.00, 6 place settings of stainless steel for $6.00, and about 20 books for $.50 each.

The afternoon auction is a little tricker to negotiate. I started the bidding on an 18-quart roaster, thinking I would help run up the bid, but I won. For $30 we came home with this brand new Toastmaster, big enough for two pot roasts or a 30-pound turkey. Maybe we should bring it to Little Valley and install it in the backroom?

We also "won" a 10-speed Raleigh bicycle, made in England (Cullen, we need you), and a smaller version of this year's St. Rose quilt. We did not bid on a lobster dinner cooked by the Monsignor (that went for $500) or a reserved parking spot for one Mass each weekend. There was almost no interest in those spots. I think the auctioneer blew it with the comment that "everyone will know if you skip Mass."

Gorgeous weather today. I took enough dead stuff out of the garden to fill the wheelbarrow, but managed one last vase full of flowers.

Yarrow, zinnias, and some rosemary—hardy plants, none of which take much pampering.