This morning we are up at 4am for a quick spin through the fields. Flashlight on, blood pumping and a razor eye darting back and forth (Mad Eye Moody from Harry Potter comes to mind). My first great find was a painting of a woman with a bird on her shoulder. She was the bomb but, hey jerk, get out of the way...(said in my mind or course...). Sorry...it just sold. Blah!!!!!! The flea market freak in me is unleashed, fueled by a competitive streak I try to hide but anyone who knows me, knows it is strong as train smoke. Anyway...I pout off with a few x!?'?!8x. Onward...sharpen your eye. Did y'all notice he had Prada shoes on to go with that grunge look? Who is he kidding? Later in a field that I was kicking butt and taking names alas I meet Mr. Prada shoes. I'm sorry SIR. Everything you are touching is sold to this young lady here. Ugh. Ya remember me? (in my head) sweetly I said fair trade play...you got my painting...said with a sweet smile. He spit and walked on. It is brutal out here! By 11 we have been up forever and I am yelling to the team to run!!!!! We are hauling butt and getting great stuff. By the time we eat "breakfast" we are fired up on caffeine and ready for the next town.