Riches.

September 12, Lake in the Hills.

There was a pledge not to go to garage sales again, but that must have been a long time ago, probably two weeks ago.
Lake in the Hills doesn't care for circuses to stay the night but it had a tremendous amount of garage sales this morning. Castro came along for the bargain ride but came away empty handed; we didn't. The bonanza started yesterday morning in Elmhurst, an upscale suburb of Chicago and a more geographically concentrated but just as plentiful garage sale experience.
There was also an estate sale in Elmhurst. I had never been to one and felt vaguely uneasy as, together with a bevy of other people, we elbowed in and out of the small, musty rooms of the old-fashioned brick home, staring at somebody else's scattered life of china cups, jewelry, linen and books, down to cleaning supplies, sheets and nightgowns. The owners were likely an elderly couple, for most of the kitchen ware looked to be from the forties, and the black, tiny woman's hats tacked to the wall of one of the bedroom were from a bygone era.
Among the riches was a beautiful set of Limoges porcelain dishes.
I didn't buy anything.
Nota bene: Courtney's better, no infection, only swelling that was made extremely painful because she didn't remove her boot and thus put undue pressure on it.