My grandparents have had a booth at the Labor Day Gun Show and Flea Market for (count ‘em) forty-one consecutive years now. Here are pictures of the craziness that ensues when the Flea Market comes to town.
Pictures courtesy of David Young and Bill’s Helicopter Service LLC.
Public School posters. As seen on swissmiss.
Speckles & Weeds cards. As seen on Apartment Therapy.
‘t Brugs Beertje
Kemelstraat 5
B-8000 Brugge
+32(0)50 33 96 16
For my 30th birthday, on a whim, Matt and I traveled to Amsterdam and Bruges for a week. Despite our lack of planning, an unexpected layover in Glasgow and lost checked luggage, it ranks as one of our most favorite trips of all time. The chaos only led to spontaneity and forced relaxation. Despite our travel books being lost, we were able to find this treasure of a place and I would have never guessed the impact it had on me or our lives.
Brugs Beertje (translates to the Bear of Bruges) is a small local bar, but don’t underestimate the power of the Belgium beer. When we arrived it was pretty clear that we were the only tourists in the place. A young mother sat at a table entertaining her toddler. A couple of businessmen were winding down at the bar while another patron’s black Labrador sat quietly under the bar stools. This was a local watering hole, but nobody batted an eye as we made our way to an empty table. The bartender expertly advised us and we most definitely weren’t disappointed. We sipped on Trappist beer, Lambics and Blonde Ale while joking about the unexpected twists and turns of our journey across the pond. The atmosphere was comfortable and relaxed. In some ways it felt as if we had arrived at a friend’s house after a long journey. People came and went, but nobody was in a hurry. The toddler’s father arrived to have a family dinner. Another couple came and sat beside us. All the while we immensely enjoyed each other and our first taste of Belgium beer.
I revisited ‘t Brugs Beertje last year. Everything was the same. The beer, the people, the bartender pouring each beer in its own special glass as I savored every sip slowly and deliberately. Only this time it was in my imagination. In reality I was in active labor, desperately trying to contain the waves of contractions. I wasn’t drunk on beer, but rather pumped full of Pitocin. As each contraction would come, I would instantly relive our first evening in Belgium and ultimately labor for almost ten hours without pain medication. All I needed was Belgium beer at ‘t Brugs Beertje and I would be able to have this baby.
In our childbirth class we worked on visualization exercises and I read up a little bit about hypnobirthing, but really felt the need to be present in the moment during birth. However, just in case I wanted to go to a “happy place” during labor, I filed away a few destinations where I could go, just in case. A deserted beach with soft, warm sand, hot sun on my skin, waves crashing at my feet, the squawks of near and distant gulls and the lingering odor Coppertone was at my disposal. But, instead, I chose to drink beer (Oh, how I craved beer when I was pregnant!) in Bruges instead.
So, out of all the places I’ve been and all the happy memories I have, ‘t Brugs Beertje was my unexpected “happy place” and helped me trudge through many contractions. But, don’t take my word for it. Go check it out for yourself.
In the not-so-distant future our little one is turning ONE and yes, we are having a birthday party. Just a small one with family members with cake and ice cream and minimal decorations. Nothing big and fancy. While I do look forward to having bigger bashes in the future, I have listened to friends recapping their own birthday party drama. Tales of parents creating registries at high-end toy stores and parties costing tens of thousands of dollars could push a parent over the edge…or debt.
So, where do you draw the line? What is “too much” for a party? How do you stay sane?
