Hudson Flea Market

Outdoors, in the gravel lot behind what used to be the foundry. April through November, every Saturday morning. The good vendors are there before seven; the wholesale buyers leave by nine; the rest of us wander through at our own pace until the coffee runs out.

What I like about it is that the inventory rotates. The same dozen vendors set up most weeks, but the stock turns over enough that you can find something you have not seen before in any given visit. The book stall in the back row, by the porta-johns, is the reason I can no longer claim that my shelf-space situation is anyone’s fault but mine.

J. has been coming here longer than I have. She still finds things.