I prefer the musty smell of at thrift store over the plastic-y overly perfumed smell of a department store any day.

This may have something to do with convincing Brent to navigate our truck and trailer through Houston city streets looking for 215 Welch Street.

Or maybe it was because I really wanted a pair of Texan cowboy boots but didn’t want to spent a month’s food budget on such boots.

Or maybe it’s because I have a nine year old (who really wants his own pair of boots) to back me up.

Or maybe it’s because I’m cheap and adventurous but mostly cheap.

Welcome to Texas Junk Company.

(Texas Junk is actually open on Fridays too.)


Yes, let’s.

Vinyl, anyone?

I didn’t find a pair of boots but the little guy in the middle did.

A door to a door.

Texas Junk Co.

Don’t miss it.

Love and Laughter,



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