What do Japanese China and Bluegrass have in common?
Yesterday was a good day. Despite my less than awesome fall allergies, yesterday was a good day. In the morning I went a thrifting. I successfully talked myself out of a beautiful old wood desk because I don’t have room for it (and it was totally overpriced.) I talked myself out of buying an awesome metal filing cabinet with drawers and shelves and cupboards because I don’t have room. I talked myself out of buying any more fabric until I can use what I’ve got, and make some room on my shelves. I even talked myself out of buying two more gorgeous old sewing machines, one complete with a full box of attachments and feet. Again. I don’t have room. But I did have room for these.
I came home only $7 the poorer, and happy with my finds. And then I started suffering from buyers-leavers remorse. This is a scientifically discovered and researched symptom where the sufferer starts feeling pangs of sadness for the things she didn’t bring home. The things she decided to leave behind. Close to the end of naptime, which I had spent chatting with a friend who helped me solve some serious Christmas present issues, I was checking my email. And in a passing comment an online friend mentioned she had lost her thrifting mojo because she hadn’t seen anything good for weeks. And that’s when I knew I had to go back.
My morning adventure had turned up a few old sewing patterns, a cute pair of T-strap shoes for Creamie and the Japanese Noritake china bowl with the lid. But the problem was with these Pyrex Bluegrass saucers. I happened upon a stack of 22 of them. And immediately they all went into my cart. They are in near mint condition, bright and shiny, and I really love the pattern. It’s not quite blue, but not quite green enough to be turquoise. (I’ll have to consult my box of 200 Crayons to get a more accurate color description.) I loved them. But what in the world would I do with 22 saucers. Nothing. So I put all but four back on the shelf and went home happy. But as the afternoon wore on I started feeling anxious and nervous. I was starting to feel as though I had left something important someplace where it was sure to fall into the wrong hands. And so when Creamie woke up we went back to the thrift store.
And I brought 18 more plates home. And now I have a stack of 22 Bluegrass saucers. And what in the world will I do with them? Nothing. But the anxiety went away, and I was happy. I also happened upon a matching mini pitcher to go with my Japanese bowl. So, to answer the question “What do Japanese China and Bluegrass have in common?” When combined they produce an amazing cure for buyers-leavers remorse. It’s been documented.
[ Pumpkin Spice Eggnog with a sprinkle of cinnamon. Hello Delicious. ]
Still happy, after dinner we went to Ross to look at toddler snowpants and boots. I decided to just look at their jeans. Just to see. I am in desperate need, but I hate trying on a million pairs of pants only to throw them all on the floor in frustration. In all the racks I found one pair that looked promising. One. I took my one item to the dressing room and tried them on. And it was love at first fit. They were perfect. It was a miracle. Since when have you (men excluded) ever gone shopping for pants and come home with the one and only pair you tried on. If you asked me yesterday the answer would have been zero. And today it is “Just Once.” Yes, yesterday was a good day.