It’s Saturday. The day’s high was 68 degrees. I spent about 80% of the day outside with my boys, cleaning up the yard a bit and sitting in the sun, getting my daily dose of Vitamin D. After the winter we’ve had, I figure I’m probably severely deficient.
If I could freeze today and relive it for the rest of my life, I would. Mild weather, nonexistent wind, and a perfect day to do just about anything. I tried to be ultra productive, of course, but the sun won in the end. I came darn near to falling asleep while sprawled out in a chair on the deck.
I visited the used furniture the other day — the same store that I scored my gray cracked ice gardening table. I found a nifty little “gossip bench” that would be a perfect home for a rotary dial phone. The actual cushion on the bench is brown, worn, and has generally seen better days, so if I did purchase the table ($30), then the first item of business would be to reupholster the bench cushion. (I say that with the ease of a person who has actually done that before. I can fake it if I try.)
In other retro news, I’ve had my first disappointing experience with eBay. I have a seller who happens to live only 50 minutes away from me, and he has several of the WNAX Neighbor Lady cookbooks that I collect. Other than somewhat slow shipping, I’ve never had a problem with him … until now. I found a 1946 edition of the cookbook — one of the few I don’t have yet — and I pounced on it right away. That was on February 26, mind you, and I am STILL waiting for it. The guy’s got 100% feedback, so it’s not like he’s a shyster, but I’m really disappointed that a fairly rare edition of the cookbook has somehow gotten lost from there to here. Again, we’re talking about FIFTY MILES. I emailed the guy and he says he’s had problems with 3 other packages that were all mailed out at the same time, and to please be patient. Well, patient I can be, since I have no other choice. I’m not about to be a jerk and leave nasty feedback for a guy who seems rather honest. I have to wonder, though, about the mailman who picked up those packages that day. What did he do — get tired of his job and just chuck the contents into a random snowbank? Perhaps I’ll never know.