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Saturday, February 9, 2013

tomorrow never comes

Headed out at ten this morning to get a jump on my 'out in the city' day. I am desperately needing new shoes (a whole wardrobe of them, actually, although, for the present moment, my last and only remaining pair of heels having bitten the dust, I have to replace them immediately), hence the day blocked out to accomodate all via the really early start.

I began with the new-to-me thrift store. I believe I have mentioned it before--not really so very far from my house, but (immensely) too far to walk. I hit Peachtree St. in enough time to catch the route that heads downtown (as opposed to walking several blocks more and catching the train. City schedules change on Saturday, which is the primary out into the city day for worker drones), but when I got downtown, I had just missed the bus to the thrift store.

So still had what has become the typical wait for each time I have attempted the outing--maybe forty-five minutes. For whatever reason, that corner of Atlanta seems to be like the bench in the old town square, or where the old men used to sit in front of the barber store...

People like to gab there.

This is the third visit now to this thrift store. The first time, I said I'd never go back, finding nothing (but buying a couple of books so my effort was not completely wasted. Seems keenly possible that that particular thrift store is a drop-off for former students. I find barely-thumbed copies of most interesting scholarly works there).

The second time, set on finding odd pieces of brightly coloured dishes, I fared better. Books then, too. But each time, no clothes, and I am a most seasoned thrift store buyer. Have years of both finding barely-worn treasures and supporting full wardrobes at thrift stores behind me.

So any can imagine my delight, today, when, after trying on two buggies full of items, I found clothes. Twelve pieces, including a light but very smart (girlish, really, but the sort that a woman my age wears so charmingly) jacket and two skirts.

Skirts have been on my list of must-finds for some long while. Had descended into absolutely none in my closet. Can you imagine! The two new ones are prints, so they won't quite fill the holes in my wardrobe (which require the more useful khaki, standard black and would even tolerate a navy or midnight blue.

To say nothing of replacing the most necessary everyday denim). I saw quite a number of darling pieces, but only four fit, and two were shorter than I can get away with now.

Of the tops, one was a tee (likely worn only once), another a step up from a tee (and it still had tags from the store purchase on it) and the remaining were varying degrees of either classic or safari or peasant (similar to hippie, but smarter)...

That irresistible matter of thrift stores and style...you can piece a wardrobe from your own choosing, and not the dictates of a wayward fashion.

True style demands that, to be sure.

Half the pieces were fifty percent off, so in spite of the most affordable final total, what it could have cost (and would have, new) allowed quite an ahhh savings.

So the thrift store has finally redeemed itself, and handsomely. I have one now on 'my' side of town that has as many designer and other clever pieces as the next. And even several of those most irresistible pieces, when you are not expecting it. One minute you are just pushing hangers rejecting everything along the way and the next--a piece so exquisite it takes your breath away.

And then it is not in your size.

The other curiousity (a perfectly random one) from today's shopping is that almost everything I picked out was in varying shades of taupe and cream and wheat.

One other treat, however. My books this time included Suite Francaise, which I have long wanted (and thought I had read), a biography of St. Paul, and the book on Satan by Elaine Pagels. While I rarely agree with what Pagels concludes, I respect and look forward to her research.

Saves me having to do the research on my own. (And yes, drily noted. Her book is on the origins of Satan, as though he did not exist, and is merely manufactured!)

Ahh, but the title of today's post. The recipe, promised some time last week for 'tomorrow.' But again...

Maybe tomorrow.

But before I go, the day's eating. I had thought to eat after the thrift store visit, then head on out to more shopping (those most necessary shoes: while I can wear jeans as a matter of course at work, some days require more, and this coming Wednesday is one of them).

The absolute stun when I finally got on the bus to leave the area and saw it was 2:58 p.m. must be noted! Nothing to do then but know the day was done. When I got home, I decided to do a quick grilled cheese for a very hungry tummy, not having eaten at all before heading out...

My daughter and I had been corresponding about grilled cheese: she began adding onion, fresh tomato and mushrooms (also fresh) to her grilled cheese several years back. I'd done plain grilled cheese earlier in the week, hence the emails.

But I decided to go with her add-ons after the long day of eating absolutely nothing (it would be another hour before I was actually home)...and the new one, spinach.

I actually had a bag of fresh spinach in my fridge.

Days being what they are when you are a single woman, supper ended up a repeat, but this time, I sauteed a full serving of spinach, a plum tomato and some slices of red onion and ate them as a side with a 'plain' grilled cheese (four slices of Muenster on a 12-grain wheat bread)...

Dribbled just a bit of balsamic vinegar over the sautee after I put it in a small bowl...

And, after eating all, swiped the vinegar-tomato brothling left in the bowl with the ends of my sandwich.

Single women don't always eat well. Shortcuts, tired evenings and bowls of cereal don't add up to good health. Part of what I want to do herein is encourage us to eat well.

And to go the extra mile and celebrate it as we do.

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