Living in Brabant

By AilsaR

Where there's muck, there's brass

A silver chair, a large gold-framed mirror (75 euros if you please). No muck, but lots of brass.

A doll's head impaled on a pole. Reminiscent of the French Revolution. Ironic; apparently Napoleon visited Tilburg once.
Dismembered legs, long and sexy. A male six-pack. If only I had found some spare arms a body could have been made. A la Frankenstein.

A little dog in a pushchair, baby buggies, shopping trollies, hundreds of them, different shades, numerous patterns.

Toys, puzzles, jigsaws (how many missing pieces?)

Tartan trousers teamed with a bright yellow windcheater and tan shoes. Second-hand clothes, piles of them. Where to begin?

A Monroe room divider, countless Elvis L.P.'s. A framed sketch of James Dean, looking moody. Never smiling, I wonder if he knew he'd die young?

Stags head, buffalo horns, a bent and worn trombone. Will that ever make music again?
Old stereo systems, a cassette recorder! I'd forgotten what they looked like.

And a CUDDLY TOY! Well, lots of them.

A castle, lit up at night, changing colours by the minute: pink, blue, green. A rainbow castle. Hustle and bustle, smiling faces lit up by helmet lamps. I swear I also saw a stuffed canary somewhere.

Tins of Bavaria, piled high. To help them get through the night of the largest annual flea market in Europe. Began at 21.00 and ends on Sunday at 17.00.

Just before I Blipped, I googled the Generation Game, an old 70's quiz show I used to watch on a Saturday night with my parents.
To my surprise I learned that it was based on the Dutch TV show Een van de acht, ("One of the Eight" - the then presenter of the show came up with the idea of the conveyor belt). More happy coincidences of the Anglo-Dutch variety.

Goblin teasmaids came and went, as did beauty sets and various other household things that didn't really interest me. But I never forgot the cuddly toy, there always was one.

More treasures to be found here.

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