|thrifted: black handmade bowl, hand-printed linen tea towels|
Is it sacrilege for a work-'til-you-drop American to say that she lives, not for her wage-slave job paying the bills, but for the weekend when the time is her own? Yet, in the irony of the flow state, weekend time moves at a different speed than weekday time; it doesn't just sift through an hourglass but actually evaporates: Where did the weekend go? How is it Sunday night already? Someone told me once, "Nobody likes their job." If more or less true, how tragic is that?
|Kay Dee Handprints label on vintage linen tea towel|
In searching for a couple of thin tension rods for additional privacy curtain panels for the bedroom and bathroom, I did a little more thrifting than usual this weekend and managed to come home with one tension rod (bathroom window, check); yet another storage basket for the main-room metro shelving unit (large, rectangular, and in good condition = hard to find); a pair of buttery-soft black leather Cole Haan platform sandals that wear like slippers ($2, Teen Challenge sale); a large clear acrylic tray to corral coffee table objects; a medium-sized black-glazed bowl, handmade by somebody named Larry in October 1987; a like-new vintage hardcover copy of Fowler's Modern English Usage, 2nd edition; and two never-used vintage linen tea towels hand-printed in Rhode Island by Kay Dee (50 cents each). Seasonal transitions can be hard—the daytime heat still like summer, the changing light and chill at night more like fall. I seem to be nesting again.
|moonrise over Clackamas riverbank brush|
What's your favorite way to fill a late-summer weekend?