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When I was about 8 or 9 years old, my parents handed down one of their old** radios to me. It was brown and cream and crackled each time I turned its huge plastic knobs--an unforgettable sound. I recall the instant sense of independence I felt hanging out in my room and being able to listen to my choice of radio stations and songs. Perhaps that's why I felt so nostalgic at our local antique fair the other day upon noticing these charming little radios that seemingly popped up everywhere--I was instantly smitten. I'm now on a mission to find one at a yard sale or thrift shop this summer--pink or turquoise please.
P.S. I did manage to find this little treasure to take home. It's official: I cannot pass up well priced, turquoise pyrex bowls.