How ironic is it that as my 500th post approaches I'm getting anxiety about coming up with something cool? 497th time's the charm?
I've been painting our kitchen in Behr's Bon Voyage (it's a little bluer than in the pic), which happily matches the colors of a vintage globe I found at the Goodwill Dig 'n Save the other day.
The Dig 'n Save is a distillation of consumerism, a universe of materialism complete unto itself. Life, death, and boxes of junk. Goodwill occasionally takes an entire shipping container and delivers it to the store to be picked over and bought for pennies on the deeply-discounted dollar. Gramma's estate sale remnants and the twins' outgrown playthings all find their way to a blue bin on wheels stuffed with dusty goods. The pro shoppers patiently line up around empty spaces in the hangar-like facility to await another bin's emergence from slapping-open tan doors.
I have seen beautiful things: a hand woven rug, a like-new Brownie Movie Camera in its box. A woman buying clothes (1.49/pound!) for her grandkids and another for an orphanage. Children running wide-eyed and giddy from bin to bin, free for once to pick out what discounted treasures they can glean from the discarded detritus of suburban life. A box of another kid's toys holds a secret fascination, and a box of mysterious origins through which you must journey to overcome the worthless is the holy grail of kid materialism fantasies. It's the dusty old attic for kids of urban sprawl.
This week I took my mom along, because I knew she would love the thrill of the hunt and not be too put off by the need to Purell upon exit. We found some trinkets (the aforementioned globe lights up!), and a book shelf dealie I'll paint to match some room. We never have enough space for books, prolific little breeders that they are.
In short: Dig n' Save, I love thee. I told you I was cheap.