I had a bit of time to myself on Friday afternoon, thanks to my husband’s new work schedule, and really had nothing pressing to do. I’m wise enough to know though, when it’s time to get out for a few minutes even if it means driving around aimless and alone.
I needed a moment, or two.
I parked myself in front of the vintage-ish looking store front and made my way into one of my favorite places to visit, a little antique store downtown. The smell enveloping me as I walked in soothed my soul. It always does.
I haven’t always enjoyed things old. I always imagined as a child I would live in one of those uber-modern houses with sleek fixtures, no clutter (***chuckle***) and hard uncomfortable looking furniture. I suppose things change as you travel down the road of life. Now I’m happy with my comfortable couch although, I could do with less clutter.
Back to my store.
The simple folk music is steady in the background as the lady at the counter greets me with a kind, “you’ve been in before, right?”. Perhaps she actually remembers me or more likely it just sounds more inviting than, “have you ever been here before?”. She tells me about the great new items upstairs and I begin my perusing of the store. The floor creaks, the birds in the cages chirp and and all is well.
I’m not exactly keeping the store in business, I’ve bought a handful of things over the few years I’ve been visiting. Usually it’s a nice strolling place where David and I would land after a quick date out to eat. Don’t get me wrong I love the items they sell they just don’t exactly …er.. fit into the budget most of the time.
I walk upstairs towards the clothes and laugh at the signs reading, “My life hasn’t been the same since that house fell on my sister” hanging in the stairwell. I run fingers over the eclectic clothing and imagine what it would be like to really have places to wear these items to. The kids would probably rub dirty fingers on the lace, and really how do you clean dirty lace?
I walk around until I’ve absorbed all that I can and quietly walk out as the lady greets another customer. I remember not to trip on the step, only because there’s that sign reminding me, and I head for the van. The warm sun bears down as I slide back behind the wheel.
At home the baby is awake and there is chicken pie to be cooked, but all is well. Sometimes you just need a moment.