(Shh. I hope Daughter #3 doesn't see this post. It explains why I was ten minutes late for my appointment with her this morning.)
1. While driving down Route 220 at 8:30 AM. I spot a sign that says, "Estate Sale". I normally pass these up, especially if I'm in a hurry, but this one pointed into an upscale neighborhood. I made a quick u-turn, giddy with the prospect of finding something great; my heart skipped a beat. (Literally, but I think it's menopause). Everything was disappointingly overpriced, but I did find two books and these coasters. I call these my "grandmother coasters" because Steve's grandmothers had these in their homes. Cost: 40¢ each. 
2. I unstitched the slipcovers from the rocking chair pads, removed them and laundered them back to a crisp white. Is it possible that such a simple thing gives me pleasure? Yes. In a big way.
3. Retrieving the mail, I see there is a letter from her pen friend in Australia. Everything about it is unique and foreign, from the envelope to the picturesque stamps to the handwriting. I like carrying good mail up the drive for someone. There's a good feeling in being the bearer of good news, as though we somehow have some part in it.
I can't resist estate sales in nice neighborhoods either. Although you never know where the "good" stuff is. Nice coasters!
ReplyDeleteI went to an estate sale in my neighborhood once and the lady of the house was present! I suddenly felt so awkward, but she gently talked about how it was time to move in with her sister and they were having an adventure moving into a high rise apartment building for seniors. I purchased her two wooden bowls that she always kept nuts in. Your coasters are dandy!
ReplyDeleteI suddenly saw the journey that letter made, with you carrying it on its final leg.
My pen friend lives in England; we email but I love getting postcards and cards from her.
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