My first place of employment in high school was at a local fabric store. Looking back on it, I don’t know if it was a prudent choice. Though it helped build and expand my knowledge of textiles and notions, I came home with more haberdashery than wages.
How could I resist the bolts of fabric at half price; the buttons at buy one get one free; the ribbons, lace and trims at 3 meters for 99 cents. All of these things and more would be near-at-hand when inspiration for the perfect project struck . . . someday . . . they would be there for me someday.
This did not stop in my springtide. As the years moved on my mass medley was added to with new finds, and taken from on fancy and whim. In the fuss and bustle of life, I could take solace in knowing that these goods were waiting patiently to be reborn.
They still wait. How can I cut into them and use them for just any old project. The next inspiration will be better. I will have the perfect need of them later, when everything is just right. Yes, that’s it.
How ludicrous! Perhaps, the moon needs to be full, the wind from the east, or the stars aligned as well.
So now, of my own accord, a gentle riddance must begin.
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