They stood in line, straight, unwavering. A multitude of colors bursting forth, tearing at the eyes. So hard to concentrate. I feel dizzy.
The eery sound of metal on metal, screeching, clawing at my ears. I stagger slightly.
The smell of a thousand, no, ten thousand lives all hanging, waiting, wanting. I crinkle my nose.
Thrift store, Goodwill, Volunteers of America. They all do the same thing to me. A brutal attack on my senses. Yet I go or rather follow as the woman of the house browses incessantly and I casually peruse the eight track tapes and the stained bread making machines. Sometimes I find things. Once I found a small grease gun for $1.
I prefer the antique shops. The musty smell is tolerable, the history is believable. The Italian trunk? Untouchable at a mere $2500.
Hours and hours we search. Looking for something, not sure what it is but the comfort in knowing as soon as you see it makes it all the worthwhile.
Two pictures, framed in antique barn wood. Riding in the back seat of the truck. I can smell them. They need fresh air. Soon they will reside in my lower level. Much cooler than the hot and humid shop where they may have laid trapped for a lifetime. They will be warmed by my fireplace in the winter and in turn will warm you as you admire the calmness of the picture and the softness of the wood frames.
Nothing is in vain if you have the right attitude.
The eery sound of metal on metal, screeching, clawing at my ears. I stagger slightly.
The smell of a thousand, no, ten thousand lives all hanging, waiting, wanting. I crinkle my nose.
Thrift store, Goodwill, Volunteers of America. They all do the same thing to me. A brutal attack on my senses. Yet I go or rather follow as the woman of the house browses incessantly and I casually peruse the eight track tapes and the stained bread making machines. Sometimes I find things. Once I found a small grease gun for $1.
I prefer the antique shops. The musty smell is tolerable, the history is believable. The Italian trunk? Untouchable at a mere $2500.
Hours and hours we search. Looking for something, not sure what it is but the comfort in knowing as soon as you see it makes it all the worthwhile.
Two pictures, framed in antique barn wood. Riding in the back seat of the truck. I can smell them. They need fresh air. Soon they will reside in my lower level. Much cooler than the hot and humid shop where they may have laid trapped for a lifetime. They will be warmed by my fireplace in the winter and in turn will warm you as you admire the calmness of the picture and the softness of the wood frames.
Nothing is in vain if you have the right attitude.
Beautiful! Something so simple as a trip to the local Goodwill sounds so amazing and calming. I also like going. Finding that one clothing item just makes my day!
ReplyDeleteDanielle B is right - this is beautiful.
ReplyDeleteWhat a visual you have created; my senses tingles as they came alive when I read this post. WOW!
And your last line says it all. It's all about the "right attitude" - which you have in spades.
Cheers, Jenny
Oh...I forgot to mention - I'm just loving the green of your blog - it is my all favourite colour. :)
ReplyDelete