I’d had a burger for dinner. It was decent enough. A side salad and some sliced onion gave me extra reason to go out for a dusk-time stomp around town.
I decided to stroll down Beech Street beyond the preschool to my future home. While flip-flops are convenient to slip into, the noise of them slapping against my heels annoyed all on a quiet summer night. A slap, slap, slap as I crossed Main Street beating the big shark trucks over the crosswalk sounded thunderous.
A block further I visited a friend, once coworker, and then took the final blocks down to the house. It was quiet and I wandered through the broken fence to view the sunset from the back yard. Purples and reds mix and blend to make a spectacular last breath. I decided the color I’ll paint the house might be reddish-purple. It’s a good color.
And I headed back to Mr. Happy’s with the sounds of faint country playing below.
****
With thoughts of furnishing a home, I spent mid-morning hitting garage sales. One, a fund-raiser at the Southwest Memorial Hospital, had some great bargains. I wandered through the rows of tables and found seven seasons of Friends.
“How much?” I asked a woman wearing a bright tie-dyed shirt (all of those helping were in the same uniform).
“How about ten dollars?” I paused in thought and then she said, “How about five. We need to sell them.”
“Sure,” I responded happily.
There was a large oil painting leaning against a pillar at the front of the sale. I’d looked at it and assumed it was out of my price range. It reminded me of last night. I picked up a neglected lawn sculpture of welded shovels and trowels (a bird?) deciding to offer two dollars. The woman agrees.
I scan the large painting once more. “How about five for that?” she suggested.
“I think I’ve got five,” I said handing her my money.
As I started to head towards my Blazer an aged man I once knew stops me and asks, “How much did you pay for the sculpture?”
“Two dollars,” I say.
“I’ll give you five.”
“Okay.”
So, my final investment in art this morning has been two dollars. I think I got a bargain…and I do believe it’s kismet!
I decided to stroll down Beech Street beyond the preschool to my future home. While flip-flops are convenient to slip into, the noise of them slapping against my heels annoyed all on a quiet summer night. A slap, slap, slap as I crossed Main Street beating the big shark trucks over the crosswalk sounded thunderous.
A block further I visited a friend, once coworker, and then took the final blocks down to the house. It was quiet and I wandered through the broken fence to view the sunset from the back yard. Purples and reds mix and blend to make a spectacular last breath. I decided the color I’ll paint the house might be reddish-purple. It’s a good color.
And I headed back to Mr. Happy’s with the sounds of faint country playing below.
****
With thoughts of furnishing a home, I spent mid-morning hitting garage sales. One, a fund-raiser at the Southwest Memorial Hospital, had some great bargains. I wandered through the rows of tables and found seven seasons of Friends.
“How much?” I asked a woman wearing a bright tie-dyed shirt (all of those helping were in the same uniform).
“How about ten dollars?” I paused in thought and then she said, “How about five. We need to sell them.”
“Sure,” I responded happily.
There was a large oil painting leaning against a pillar at the front of the sale. I’d looked at it and assumed it was out of my price range. It reminded me of last night. I picked up a neglected lawn sculpture of welded shovels and trowels (a bird?) deciding to offer two dollars. The woman agrees.
I scan the large painting once more. “How about five for that?” she suggested.
“I think I’ve got five,” I said handing her my money.
As I started to head towards my Blazer an aged man I once knew stops me and asks, “How much did you pay for the sculpture?”
“Two dollars,” I say.
“I’ll give you five.”
“Okay.”
So, my final investment in art this morning has been two dollars. I think I got a bargain…and I do believe it’s kismet!
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