Fleaology: Realizing what's important. . .

This week I've spent many moments contemplating just what flea.o.logy is. I was told that we are a business. Hmmm. . . are we? My dad worked for General Motors. Now, in my mind, that is a business, not our little flea market. Is flea.o.logy a yard sale? A pretty darn fun one, I'd say, and I love the yard we do it in. Is flea.o.logy an event? Yuppers. We've even been called a flea circus by our wonderful friend Dennis at the New Century Collector, which I'm certain is a term of endearment, coming from him.

Then I spent a few hours with Kathy, a new flea.o.logy dealer, whose life, you could say, has been "lemons" lately. Her husband was laid off a few years ago from his career of a few decades. Three years ago she took on a partner in her 20-year-old business, but that partner went on to financially ruin that business. Two years ago she and her husband had a dream to open a charming reception center which would host practically-perfect-princess-parties and wedding celebrations straight out of storybooks - but, after making a substantial investment into the dream, the seller backed out and their investment went up in smoke. The stress caught up with Kathy, and fibromyalgia is now her constant companion. . . .

Fibromyalgia is a chronic condition that is thought to be the result of overactive nerves that results in widespread pain and tenderness all over the body. It can cause extreme fatigue and result in difficulty performing even simple tasks. Still, Kathy has a smile as she tells me that flea.o.logy has been her inspiration. She was "lost," she says, following the reception center fiasco. We (flea.o.logy) gave her the "spark to get up and move." She spoke about the "joy of the find." And the people. She loves the people you meet in this flea market adventure. . . .

And thanks, Kathy, for helping us figure out what flea.o.logy is. . .

i n s p i r a t i o n

Now, IMHO, fibro is not an illness for the faint of heart. It takes great courage to keep going when you feel pain e v e r y s i n g l e d a y . Some days you can't get out of bed until afternoon. Some days you can't get out of bed. At all. And it's incredibly frustrating. Yet Kathy spoke with quiet determination and courage. Especially considering the incredible discouragement she and her husband have gone through in recent years. She told me that she has no ill feelings.

She said, "You don't give up.

There's always a light somewhere.

You just might have to reinvent yourself, though."

Kathy and her husband are the parents of four grown children, two of them living at home. It wasn't what they had planned, but it's what they do, because their children need them right now. A curly-haired, just-starting-school, "watch-me-jump-in-the-pool-Grandma!" granddaughter lives with them too. She painted the chair above. . . and, like the artist she is, she showed me her technique - this stroke here, another stroke there. It's done in pink camo, Kathy and I decide. We hope it will go to a good home on Saturday!