Ah-lah.
Someone else had realized the value of that coat and had gotten in and bought it before I did. I searched the store high and low, and it was not there.
I sigh, thinking of that softness, thinking of how a mere sigh would ruffle that fur like a wind through a forest.
It's okay.
I tell you this- the Goodwill is PACKED on half-off day. People were standing in line bitching about the fact that there were only two cash registers. When I went to check out I let the man behind me in line go before me. He only had two things. I had a bunch o' booty. He thanked me approximately three times. I didn't mind. Really. I did not.
Lily wanted me to look for some long-sleeved things for her. I got her some shirts and I hope they make her happy, keep her warm. She is going through the head-ache phase of her pregnancy. I always did that too, around the five-to-six months part. The blood volume is doubling then and the head suffers. She went to work anyway and when I stopped in to do a little grocery shopping and give her her clothes, she looked so miserable.
"You need to go home," I told her, as if she could just tell the manager that her mother told her she needed to go home and so it would be fine. If I could have given her a note, I would have.
Dear Store Manager, My daughter Lily has a terrible headache and is pregnant and will not be able to finish her shift today. Thank-you. Ms. Moon, Mother and RN, BSN
"I know," she said. "I just want to sleep."
All she can take for pain is Tylenol which I call the Placebo Drug. As far as I can tell, it's as worthless as swallowing a button when it comes to pain.
It will pass. And yes, she checked her blood pressure. It is fine.
I bought some things at the Goodwill for myself. Soft things. No cashmere. I swear to you- there wasn't one damn garment made of cashmere in that entire store.
Harumph!
Everything I bought is all in the washing machine right now, spinning out.
I found some men's Levi's. Some old, round short man had obviously died and his relatives had donated his jeans. My children will laugh at me if they see me wearing them. So what? I love to make my children laugh. Making them laugh is my life goal. These pants will help me a great deal in fulfilling it.
I bought some soft linen shirts and some soft linens pants. I bought a plum-colored T-shirt that I may only ever wear under overalls. Who cares? It's a lovely color. It was half-price.
I didn't buy anything but clothes. No plates, no cups, no pictures, no end tables, no TV's or coffee makers or lamps or napkins or table cloths.
I need none of that.
A man was in there who announced loudly TWO TIMES within my hearing that they had no size THIRTEEN SHOES. I think he was quite proud of the fact that he wore size thirteen shoes. I did not tell him that my husband wears size SIXTEEN SHOES. I did not want to hurt his feelings.
I pretended not to hear and went on going through the sweaters in my vain search for cashmere.
I got to see Owen. He opened the door for me and led me inside. I said, "Look! Look what I brought you!" I opened the carton of eggs I had with me and he said, "Dank you!" and he reached out his hands and took the carton tenderly to his chest and carried them to his daddy who put them in the refrigerator. He has a runny nose. He drew pictures of Bop and Mer and Mama and Daddy and Mr. Peep. We played "games" on his bed which involves a puzzle book he loves. He is completely into classifying animals as to whether they live on the farm or in the jungle. He knows, too.
Every time I see him he knows more. He was watching Diego and when there was a bad situation happening, he looked at me and said, "Trouble!"
Oh god. He is so beautiful. When I get him alone I tell him that. "Owen. You are so beautiful. I love you so much."
He just looks at me as if, I know, and then we go on to the next thing.
I swear though. I could swallow him whole.
I could invent an entire religion out of his toes and fingers. I could create a complete philosophy of life based on his cheeks. I could die happy knowing how well my genes have joined others to make that perfect, sturdy body.
Yea, lord. I have done my job.
Mr. Size Sixteen Shoes just called to get instructions on how to make oyster stew.
"Do you want the kind I like or that your mother made?"
Oooh. There is no way to win answering that question.
I gave him both options.
And whichever version he chooses will be just fine with me.
I miss that man but as I told him, this time alone has been very good for me. He understands.
And in a little over a month, we will be in Cozumel together for ten days, stuck together like velcro and it will be wonderful. It always is.
It's all about balance, I guess.
Sometimes one needs to be a jungle animal, sometimes one needs to be a farm animal.
Right now I am completely content being a farm animal.
And hell, it's like seventy degrees and so who needs the softest lamb's wool fur in the world?
Sigh.
Choke.
Not me.
I found some men's Levi's. Some old, round short man had obviously died and his relatives had donated his jeans. My children will laugh at me if they see me wearing them. So what? I love to make my children laugh. Making them laugh is my life goal. These pants will help me a great deal in fulfilling it.
I bought some soft linen shirts and some soft linens pants. I bought a plum-colored T-shirt that I may only ever wear under overalls. Who cares? It's a lovely color. It was half-price.
I didn't buy anything but clothes. No plates, no cups, no pictures, no end tables, no TV's or coffee makers or lamps or napkins or table cloths.
I need none of that.
A man was in there who announced loudly TWO TIMES within my hearing that they had no size THIRTEEN SHOES. I think he was quite proud of the fact that he wore size thirteen shoes. I did not tell him that my husband wears size SIXTEEN SHOES. I did not want to hurt his feelings.
I pretended not to hear and went on going through the sweaters in my vain search for cashmere.
I got to see Owen. He opened the door for me and led me inside. I said, "Look! Look what I brought you!" I opened the carton of eggs I had with me and he said, "Dank you!" and he reached out his hands and took the carton tenderly to his chest and carried them to his daddy who put them in the refrigerator. He has a runny nose. He drew pictures of Bop and Mer and Mama and Daddy and Mr. Peep. We played "games" on his bed which involves a puzzle book he loves. He is completely into classifying animals as to whether they live on the farm or in the jungle. He knows, too.
Every time I see him he knows more. He was watching Diego and when there was a bad situation happening, he looked at me and said, "Trouble!"
Oh god. He is so beautiful. When I get him alone I tell him that. "Owen. You are so beautiful. I love you so much."
He just looks at me as if, I know, and then we go on to the next thing.
I swear though. I could swallow him whole.
I could invent an entire religion out of his toes and fingers. I could create a complete philosophy of life based on his cheeks. I could die happy knowing how well my genes have joined others to make that perfect, sturdy body.
Yea, lord. I have done my job.
Mr. Size Sixteen Shoes just called to get instructions on how to make oyster stew.
"Do you want the kind I like or that your mother made?"
Oooh. There is no way to win answering that question.
I gave him both options.
And whichever version he chooses will be just fine with me.
I miss that man but as I told him, this time alone has been very good for me. He understands.
And in a little over a month, we will be in Cozumel together for ten days, stuck together like velcro and it will be wonderful. It always is.
It's all about balance, I guess.
Sometimes one needs to be a jungle animal, sometimes one needs to be a farm animal.
Right now I am completely content being a farm animal.
And hell, it's like seventy degrees and so who needs the softest lamb's wool fur in the world?
Sigh.
Choke.
Not me.
Under your influence, I've started going to the Goodwill but I never find anything. Oliver does, though --
ReplyDeleteOh, sadness. That's why I say get it while the gettin's good.
ReplyDeleteWhen my son was a newborn I remember being just in pure awe over the fact that he had a spine. I used to think that that was just the most amazing, beautiful thing: He had a SPINE and he GREW inside of ME. Poor, messed up me. They (we) are such miracles.
ReplyDelete...and I LLLLLLLOOOOOVE the Goodwill. I've found all sorts of spendy stuff at ours (these rich women around here will give away ANYTHING!).
We are spoiled here by a placed called NAC - Northwest Animal Companions. They have the cleanest thrift store ever. It is so nice to go there because they keep it so well organized. Take care, Ms. Moon, and love hearing all about Mr. Owen. He is a superstar.
ReplyDeleteOwen's fingers and toes and chubby little boy cheeks....not that is a religion/philosophy that even I could subscribe to !
ReplyDeleteAwwww, about the coat, but your other treasures sounded good too.
I have been shopping GW for 18 years....my entire house (well, everything in it) comes from GW and it is beautiful. Someday when I have the courage I'll put some pictures on my blog.
And I'm so glad that your little blurp of notfeelinggood didn't turn into a cold :)... hope little Owen is better soon.
of course I meant now, not not..!
ReplyDeleteThe funky, somewhat grubby Goodwill in my funky farming town is so packed on senior discount day that you can't even get into the big parking lot. And the store is full of gray-haired folks standing in line with piles of paperback books! Kind of sweet. Makes me think of the days in San Francisco when the Diggers ran the Free Store. It would really be fun to see that energy resurface. Or maybe in these more difficult times that's called Occupy.
ReplyDeleteand btw, thank you for the glimpse of that beautiful picture of you and your babe....you look so happy! It was a joy to see.
ReplyDeleteDank you!
ReplyDeleteThat's the thing about the Goodwill. If you see it and like it, buy it - because in an hour or two it will be gone. I found a beautiful like new white cashmere cardigan a couple of days ago. It's too small but I will wear it anyway. :-)
I call any thrift store a treasure box. You never know what you might find but definitely don't think it will still be there if you hesitate...it will be gone :(
ReplyDeleteAfter reading Allegra's last post I realize how much I need to be grateful for...and reading yours has doubled the dose...I am so lucky...and I need to remember that on the blue days.
I saw that photo (of you I presume) with one of your babes...and thought how dear that must be to look upon that every time you pass it. Our babes...
I somehow missed the picture at the top of this post---that is a lovely photograph of you and a baby. Beautiful mother and child.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry about the coat, but something else will come up. I actually went into a Goodwill because of you. I bought some jeans. They have cheap jeans. I like that.
ReplyDeleteSigh, indeed. In these hard times, the swanky items seem to have disappeared from the Goodwill I frequent. I just went on a cashmere hunt on Saturday. Nuthin'.
ReplyDeleteI love the way you write of your love for Owen. Softer and warmer than lamb's wool
The man in the shoe store story made me smile HUGE. I just love that.
ReplyDeleteOwen is so adorable. We don't get Goodwill here, but we have church bazaars with odd and wonderful finds.
ReplyDeleteI'm being a farm animal just now as well. Great image.
ReplyDeletelove that picture. is that photograph you and one of your babies. you look divine.
ReplyDeleteElizabeth- Keep looking. You'll find something. I promise. What did Oliver find?
ReplyDeleteDTG- I know. I know. Damn.
silverfinofhope- For me, the wonder was concentrated on the heart. When any of my babies sneezed I would say, "Bless your perfect heart."
Mr. Shife- I am following the progress of your super-star-to-be quite intently.
I'd love that thrift store.
Nicol- Back at you.
liv- I knew what you meant. And yes,that was me and one of my nurslings, a long, long time ago.
A- Yeah. Funny, huh? I watched an old couple debate about a coat for a good fifteen minutes. They were darling.
Rubye Jack- Oh. Good for you!
Too small just means cozier.
Ellen- Our babes. Yes.
Syd- Hurray!
Denise- Yep. Hard times influence the thrift stores in a big way.
Maggie May- He was rather odd.
Mary LA- Just as good!
Mwa- It's not so bad, is it?
Angella- I was a baby then myself. Sigh.
Aw, there is no time for deliberating. I do this all the time. I like a good deliberate. Bites me in the ass all the time too :(
ReplyDeleteoh I was in a local re-sale shop with my daughter one time getting some stuff for her and saw the most beautiful chinese jackets/shirts (? been a long time and memory fades) that I KNOW would have fit me but did not want to get side tracked so I didn't get them thinking I would come back in a day or two when I had time for myself. Alas, they were gone.
ReplyDelete10 days in Cozumel. sigh.