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.
