Lost and Found

I have moved a number of times in my life.  These events are usually precedeed by a feeling of panic, where I get rid of a number of items that I would keep on a regular day.  The pre-move garage sale is always a useful purge, but is often followed by regret for years to come. (Just ask my sister about the time we held a garage sale when our parents were moving from Michigan to Arkansas.  We were literally selling the pictures off the walls.  What were we thinking?)

Michael and I held a garage sale right before we moved from Saratoga, Wyoming to Fort Collins.  Granted, most of the items I haven't missed, but for some reason I've been pining for a shadow box that was made especially for me.

Let me back this story up a little bit.  Michael and I lived in Gillette, Wyoming for a year while he was on vicarage.  Gillette will always hold a special place in my heart because it was there that I learned to quilt.  The ladies of the church there welcomed me with a gusto and taught me all the foundations for quilting, many of the skills that I still use today.  When we left, Dianne gave me a shadowbox filled with all kinds of little quilty notions. 

I loved that she had put all those goodies in there just for me, and I had it up in my craft room in Saratoga.  But then when we moved, I just figured I wouldn't have a place for a shadow box, so I sold it to a lady who was going to give it to her daughter who was also sewer.

Oh how I regretted doing that.  I don't know why, but whenever I was sewing that shadow box would pop into my mind.  I remember that Dianne had told me I could take it apart if I wanted to.  Why didn't I do that?  Why?  Why didn't I keep the little scissors and the golden needle?  So I didn't have room for a shadow box.  I certainly had room for some wooden spools and a few buttons.  For some reason the scissors plagued me the most.  I use little thread snipping scissors all the time when I'm sewing, especially because I do a lot of chain piecing.  Whenever my usual pair had wandered away from my sewing machine I would think, "Why didn't I at least keep the scissors?"  This would sometimes be followed up by, "I bet that lady's daughter took the shadow box apart.  I bet she's using the scissors!  Why didn't I think of that!?"

Fast forward a few years.  I was in Saratoga a few weekends ago visiting my friends.  Carol and I decided to go downtown to a thrift store that wasn't even in existence when I lived there.  We had fun wandering around and then I stopped dead in my tracks.  There was my shadow box! The one I had been pining for! There is was, four years later!  I couldn't believe it!  And it was exactly how I remembered it, not a button missing.  There were my little scissors, calling to me.

I would only have to pay $14.50 to get it back. 

Oh my, I had a personal crisis right then and there.  I am super thrifty.  That is WAY too much money for me to spend on an item, especially one I had once owned for free.

I walked away, I came back.  I showed it to Carol, I put it back.  Then I wandered around the store holding it, trying to figure out if they would just let me take the scissors out, and they could still sell the rest.  A saleslady noticed me and said, "I think you want that."  "I do!" I said, and then I told her the WHOLE story.  I even pointed to the little note.  "That's me! I'm Karen!"

She talked to the owner of the store and they told me they would sell me the whole thing for $3.50.  Deal!  Hurray!!!! I almost cried.

I now have all the goodies in my new craft room, where they belong.  And I have a little bit more peace of mind.

P.S.  A few days after I had taken the above picture I was sewing and my usual thread snips had again wandered away.  "Now, where are my little scissors?" I said to myself, and I reached over and grabbed this pair and happily snipped away.