My Deep Dark Secret....

Don't worry. It has nothing to do with panties or how to get busted by your child and your in-laws while you have hot steamy sex with your husband. (Not this time anyway) Nope. My deep, dark secret is this....

I LOVE to shop at Goodwill.

There. I've said it. Consequences be damned.

I should qualify this, I guess. I love to find a bargain, a steal, a perfect something that I need, and I love knowing that it might have had a gentle life already, and I'm not contributing to wanton and wasteful mass production of stuff. (But I've been known to get a little steamy over that as well).

Here's what brought this on. I have been shopping for a new coat for Joe-Henry for a couple weeks. His coat is on it's second year with him, and it had a previous life with a friends two sons already, so it was getting a little worn. Still in decent shape, just not as warm and toasty as it had been last year. Plus he's grown, like, a foot in the last month, so he's poking out a bit more. Anyway, I hit all the usual after Christmas sales, all the usual suspects: Macy's, Target, LL Bean, Land's End, and today I tried the Columbia Sportswear Outlet Store, sure that I would find nirvana. But nope. They had plenty of coats that he could have worn last year, or might be able to wear when he's in highschool, but none that would fit him this winter and into next winter. Shoot.

So we hop in the car and head home, but on the way, we pass a really great Goodwill, so I make a sharp right, with JH moaning in the backseat about how much he HATES shopping, and I tell him to put a cork in it, we're going in for five minutes. And there, shining under the neon lights, was a perfect winter jacket. Big and poofy and water-resistant, with a lovely, warm, fleecy detachable hood. Dark green with black across the shoulders.

Originally Old Navy, new with tags.

Price tag 14.00, and when we got to the cash register, half off. HALF OFF, PEOPLE! That's a brand new winter coat for SEVEN BUCKS.

He played football in it while it snowed this evening, and stayed nice and toasty. And he thanked me for his new coat.

Rooooaaaaaarrrr!!! I AM SUCH A BARGAIN HUNTING GODDESS!

Nirvana

Cue the Heavenly Choir.

It's here. Finally.

After waiting for a year and three months and two days, the invasion of the Swedes has hit Portland.

What did I purchase you ask? Oh, I spent large, friends, I spent LARGE.

A trash can for my office. Because I'm tired of leaving my trash on the floor and then realizing that no one will clean it up for me.
A cheese grater for my sister, as well as a gift certificate for her birthday tomorrow.
A little thing for my mother-in-law that I can't tell you about in case she reads my blog.
And not one, but TWO little rugs to put over the carpet where Lulu routinely takes a crap every morning.
When she shits on it (and she will) I can just throw it in the wash, and put that other one down. just. like. that.

Sa-WHEET.

Where was Joe-Henry during all this capitalistic hedonism? Why he was in Smaland(does anyone know where the umlauts are on the qwerty keyboard?) playing amidst the other urchins in the trees that hung from the ceiling and the large wooden shoes, and I walked away with only a beeper to keep me company. It didn't tug at my shirt, or whine about being hungry, but I got used to it.

And there were meatballs and ice cream cones to celebrate at the end.

Ikea. The only big box store that doesn't give me hot flashes. Ahhhhhhhhh......