Herself: The Friday usual plus spoiled rotten. Thank you for the real cards, the email messages, email cards, notes on blogs, and the crowds of Facebook birthday wishes. You bet you left me smiling yesterday and today. Today I have to clean my closet of things I don't wear to make room for the new.
Reading: I never got to a book yesterday.
Friends: Lessa's sponsor ate something yesterday for the first time in forever. Very exciting after being fed from a tube for so long. We are all cheering. Nothing from Jean9's family. I worry. Cha's head is above water, and our friend here is certifiable for another 4 months.
Balance: Coming home with a smile on our faces.
When himself picked me up at the thrift store, I let the word "birthday" slip out. I assure you it was an accident. "It's your birthday?" Asked the manager....such a delightful post modernist child she is. "And what are you going to do?"
"Go to thrift stores," G told her.
She looked incredulous while the two of us laughed.
Hey, letting me in the back of her shop to voluntarily sort donations is like letting the coyote into the hen house. Not only am I giving back to a cause I care for passionately, I also am equally passionate about shopping at thrift stores. This day I brought home from the Cancer Society shop one of those meticulously made, three inch tall teddy bears. Oh, shame on me. Did I need it? Not at all. It has a good home now.
So G whipped me out into the world of the bigger stores, and I gathered unto myself a rich panoply of goodies that I only half needed. Spoiled be me, and you know I was grateful. All but the purse, of course. I needed that.
I like to have fun with purses. I have one that's a blue metal box, another one is made with zebra plastic, and one I found last year is a red felted carpet bag. Ya gotta have fun with yourself, and purses are one way to add humor. I have also been looking for the boring.....solid colors that will go with other solids of similar ilk. Navy blue. Boring, but I like it far better than your basic black. Navy with a little bling, perhaps?
At the Amvets on Skyline Drive, in the heart of a sadly blighted area of the city, one passes by the hispanic man with his iced fruit bars right into the arms of the purse section. The place has purses on purses with purses too.
I checked out one navy blue, medium sized purse bland on one side with rivets and knobs and clips and buckles on the other. No flashy sign to tell me who made it. White stuff spilled all over it. Four bucks. I continued on to a piece of JCPenney's plastic for twenty one dollars. I didn't think so. Then I found another twenty one buck piece of plastic. Really not. I radiated back to that first bag dodging a lady trying to push me out of the isle with her shopping cart, and grabbed that purse, slinging it over my shoulder as if it were mine.
At home as dinner warmed, I discovered that the white stuff would wash off the blue purse. After dinner I stuck my nose into the slightly tired interior to finally discover a tiny piece of leather announcing, "Wilson Leather."
There are days one feels spoiled rotten, and there are days when one feels triumphant.