I'll bet you thought I quit on the blog every day for seven days thing already, didn't you? Well, I wouldn't blame you for thinking that.
But I have a story to tell!
Sometimes it seems like the thrift stores WANT me to find the stuff in them. That sounds crazy. Maybe God wants me to find it? Okay, that sounds crazy too. I just know that sometimes I get this feeling, deep inside, that I have stop off at the Goodwill or the Salvation Army, and when I get in there there is a Perfect Excellent Thing that no one else is dashing toward. Sometimes I even see it from far away, and my heart starts beating. The thing I came here for that I didn't know existed until ten seconds ago! I have to make a move on it before someone else does! THAT LADY is looking TOWARD IT! The wheels of my cart squeak louder and louder and when I get close enough and that lady is in my way, I kindly say, "excuse me" and then I grab it, tight, and inspect it. Is it as great as it seemed at first glance? Yes. Usually the answer is yes. Great to me, at least.
On Sunday night, I got this weird urge to go to Goodwill. I told Luke I needed a belt, and slipped off, into the evening with the baby and no clue what I was looking for. When I got there, I poked around awhile, then wandered into this:
I knew, immediately, that I loved it. But what would I do with it? I decided that I could should buy it ($1.99!), remove the stitches with the David Ross info (sorry David Ross) and replace them with Hal's birth info. Of course, I had never ever embroidered anything before. Not unless you count the strawberry hoop I embroidered and gave to my grandma when I was a little girl, the strawberry hoop with the poorly stitched word "STRAWBERRY" across the top of a poorly stitched picture of a strawberry. The strawberry hoop she hung in her kitchen and left there, like it was art, for way longer than she needed to, because she was wonderful. That was my only experience with embroidery. But I was sure I could do this, how hard could it be? And besides, it was The Excellent Thing that was waiting for me at Goodwill. I had to take it home.
24 hours of time and about 8 hours of work later, I had successfully removed the stitches that had been sewn in 1953. I felt guilty about removing them, of course, but I removed them. And I replaced them with some very uneven, not perfect, kind of shabby stitches. It was really hard to embroider over where the old letters had been. I tried to use as many of the original needle holes as possible, which led to me writing things like "At homE" -- not how I would have worded it -- and you can see, for instance, how the last one used to say "Black" rather than "light". But only if you look closely. And I plan to look at it almost exclusively from far away.
Sometimes I think I should do a weekly series of crap I find at the thrift store, but that would be committing to something and I bad at that. I mean, I almost didn't post day two of my blog every day for seven days thing. But then I did. Maybe we will call this post my Crap from the Thrift Store post number one. Whether or not post number two ever happens.
I asked Luke for another word for "Crap from the Thrift Store" and he said, "No, I think that's fine. You're just saying what it is! Worthless crap from the thrift store that no one else wanted!" Crap from the Thrift Store it is.