Trade Days in Fredericksburg now happens once a month. When I frequented the place, those many years ago, it was nothing more than three (if memory serves me) long rickety metal barns with piles of dusty stuff inside. There were a few colorful ole’ coots who were happy to haggle, but more enjoyed the banter.
There is more traffic now. There are more barns. There are even cutesy little single-vendor barns strewn across the grounds offering shabby chic furnishings, metal tools and native plants. And nestled right between the newish red metal bath house and the Saturday afternoon country crooners was the Biergarten. 100 beers the bartender says, “just don’t count ’em,” snickers the other. They’re selling sauce at the swap meet. I am in love.
As Gadora and Paula rounded the last corner of the market, she said, “This lady has a ton of junk.” We head in her direction.