Life in the past lane

Went for a wander to buy some guitar strings, which took us past the lane sale at the auction rooms.

Hard to tell the trash from the treasure - and just as hard to read the people: loaded antiques dealer, or obsessive postcard collector? It's definitely a world unto itself, where you either know what's going on or you don't. And I don't.

Oh, and if you were the bloke who accepted a blipcard this morning in Madeira Street, the reason I said "blip'sh thish great (slurp) shotographic zhournal webshite" is that I'd just been to the dentisht. Sorry, dentist.