Yellow

When we went antiquing a couple weeks ago, there was this one vendor that had a lot of sewing stuff, including a vintage machine.  Anyway, that booth is always like that, and every time we go there, I paw around in it, looking at patterns, notions and a large basket of scissors.  And, I generally end up buying something. 

One of the things she's done is to take cellophane bags and fill them with things that only share color in common.  There's a vintage postcard to hold them flat and spools of thread and other things that are similar in color. 

I picked a yellow bag.  I picked it because of the tiny scissors that were in it, knowing they might not work...and being right. 

I was seduced by the cuteness.  The thread is rotted, the thimble is too small, there's one miscellaneous button...like I need another button.  The needles have rusted.  The scissor sharpener might work, we'll have to see...it didn't help the tiny scissors.  And, I don't have any shoes to match that shiny gold sewing kit bag.  The very small embroidery hoop was a separate purchase from the same vendor.  I'm pretty sure it would work, but it's fragile and made for smaller, more delicate hands than I have. 

But, it gave me delight.  And, it's still giving me delight.  And, that's more delight than the three dollar price tag. 

And, they make the perfect addition to my collection of vintage sewing tools. 

Everybody have a great Thursday.  Work is so wrong.  There really ought to be a better way to make money.  My longest lunch hour this week was 20 minutes.  I make sure I get up from my desk at least twice to walk all the way around our very large building.  You guys have heard about those walks.  They add to my steps, but more importantly, they get me out of my bubble and make me interact with people I encounter; make me smile, make me stand a little straighter, have a short chat or a longer catch up, and they just lighten my mood. 

I've started saying things to my boss that I was holding in before.  Telling him how I feel about things.  Explaining that I know he can't do anything about it right now, but that doesn't mean I don't need to let him know how I'm feeling.  I don't know if it's making things better for him, but it's sure as heck making things easier for Rob because I don't come home and say it to him. 

That's a win. 

I was ruining happy hour. 

See ya'!

Lane