Be Careful Where You Buy Buttons

I am a woman on a mission.  I have a debit card, and I am not afraid to use it.  I have spent countless hours on the Internet looking at sewing room storage and organization materials.  I realized early on in my search that almost all of the pictures that I pursued farther than Google Images originated from Ikea, the Swedish everything-in-the-world company.  Their clean lines and design engineering captivated me.  Their prices are also very competitive.  I had called a local cabinetmaker for an estimate on putting in some custom drawer units and shelves.  I sucked all the air out of the room when he told me that it would cost at least $5000.00!  When I told my husband, he said that it did not matter what it cost, our vintage 1922 walls were not up to the task of holding up that much additional structure.  Yikes!  I had not even thought about that.  Luckily, I found just what I needed and I actually like the looks of the system as well.  Obviously designed with bedrooms in mind, Ikea's Stolmen system consists of drawer and shelving options that attach to sturdy floor-to-ceiling poles.  As an added bonus, I found perfect solutions to replace my cutting and sewing tables.  Tommy found them architecturally compliant as well.  Ikea, here I come.

My husband does not consider you on time unless you arrive at least half an hour early.  Backfired that day.  Arrived an hour before opening time.  Thank goodness they had a coffee shop.  Please note printed shopping list on dash, complete with aisle and bin numbers!

St. Tommy, patron saint of crazy sewing women.

What real women wear to Ikea...no makeup, school teacher shoes, shirt three sizes too big for modesty when climbing on shelves to reach top bin.  Had most of what we needed.  Headed home to construct the monolith.

I learned another valuable lesson that day.  Be careful, be very careful, where you buy buttons.  On the way home, I asked Tommy to stop in Conyers so that I could dash into Jo-Ann to look for a little bag of those teeny bright colored buttons that look just precious on smocking.  Tommy went to the PetSmart next door to pick up some replacement aquarium fish.  No buttons.  I headed next door to meet Tommy.  On the sidewalk between the stores, a metro Atlanta rescue shelter was having an adoption event.  I was just minding my own business when "he" caught my eye.  He was ignoring the people who were shouting at him to come to the edge of the doggie fence so that their unruly children could assault him.  I just sauntered over and stuck the back of my hand into the fence.  He sauntered over and licked it.  I picked him up.  By that time Tommy had joined us and was babbling on about our not getting a dog.  I slowly turned to him, put my  nose about three inches from his and said, "If you don't want a scene on your hands, drop the attitude and back away from doggie fence.  Do not raise your voice.  Do not speak at all.  This is my new buddy, and he is going home with us."  I made short order of the adoption.  The shelter lady was still stuttering as we drove off.  You see, last spring I lost my long time buddy, Max.  He had been with me for fifteen years, five of which were very difficult for our family.  In 2008, Tommy and I lost our younger daughter, Mary, in a tragic auto accident.  In the darkest hours of the longest nights, Max would sense my pain and tiptoe over and lick my tears away.  Although much joy has returned to our lives, there are still nights that I need a buddy--doggie buddies always know just what to do when humans suffer.  Charlie is no exception.  He is a great buddy and shows great promise of being a handful.  Perhaps we should have named him Mayday.  Yes, be very careful where you buy buttons.  You may end up with more than your money's worth!

 

Charlie says be kind and take joy.