Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for bird boarders and new nests.
Although winter intends to linger for a few more weeks, the cool temperatures don't deter the birds from completing their A-priority tasks. Afterall, it's nest building season in the neighborhood.
This morning, as T and I hike along the trail, we watch as the finches, sparrows, robins, magpies, and blue jays busily collect an assortment of excellent building materials. The open meadow provides a treasure trove of straw, grass, twigs and mud. The birds are picky shoppers, comparing this twig to that one before making their final selection. In fact, they are so focused on their mission that they don't fly away when T pulls me onto the field for a closer look.
Last year, the Christmas wreath that hangs on our front door was prime avian real estate - sheltered from the sun and wind, protected from natural predators, and managed by animal-loving landlords. Over the spring and summer months, finch and robin families took up residence. (Unfortunately, only one finch family survived - I'll save that story for another day.) Two nests still adorn the wreath. I wonder if finches and robins return to the same nesting site year after year. We would welcome them back to raise new families. It's really not an inconvenience - once the mother lays the eggs, we just don't use the front door until the eggs hatch and the mother begins leaving the nest to forage. Perhaps I should erect a "for rent" sign near the porch.
We'll wait a few more weeks to see if the wreath attracts new boarders. If not, I'll take it down, wipe away the winter dust, and store it in the basement until next Thanksgiving.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Sunday, 27 February 2005 - A mid-day nap
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for a mid-day nap.
I am trying to go to bed by midnight so I can rise with the sun and take T for longer walks. However, the moment I decide to call it quits for the night, my current knitting project begs me to knit just one more row. The one row grows to ten or twenty so I don't get to bed until after 1 AM. Most days, I do just fine on five or six hours' sleep. Today, is an exception.
Around mid-afternoon, I nod off while trying to solve the New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle. I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. An hour or so later, I awake with a start. T is nudging me with his cold, wet nose. It's time for his afternoon walk.
I arise, feeling quite alert and energized. I am now ready for the rest of the day's activities: take T for a walk, finish the crossword puzzle, watch the Academy Awards ceremony, and knit for hours.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for a mid-day nap.
I am trying to go to bed by midnight so I can rise with the sun and take T for longer walks. However, the moment I decide to call it quits for the night, my current knitting project begs me to knit just one more row. The one row grows to ten or twenty so I don't get to bed until after 1 AM. Most days, I do just fine on five or six hours' sleep. Today, is an exception.
Around mid-afternoon, I nod off while trying to solve the New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle. I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. An hour or so later, I awake with a start. T is nudging me with his cold, wet nose. It's time for his afternoon walk.
I arise, feeling quite alert and energized. I am now ready for the rest of the day's activities: take T for a walk, finish the crossword puzzle, watch the Academy Awards ceremony, and knit for hours.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Saturday, 26 February 2005 - Hot cup of green tea
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for a hot cup of green tea.
I love the aroma of the fragrant tea leaves as they steep in hot water. I lift the mug to my lips and take a sip of the hot brew. The heat settles in my core, warming me from the inside out, gently thawing my soul.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for a hot cup of green tea.
I love the aroma of the fragrant tea leaves as they steep in hot water. I lift the mug to my lips and take a sip of the hot brew. The heat settles in my core, warming me from the inside out, gently thawing my soul.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Friday, 25 February 2005 - Random acts of kindness
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for random acts of kindness.
Recently, I have been the perpetrator and recipient of these acts. Although I prefer the giving, I am learning to enjoy the receiving.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for random acts of kindness.
Recently, I have been the perpetrator and recipient of these acts. Although I prefer the giving, I am learning to enjoy the receiving.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Thursday, 24 February 2005 - Signs of spring
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for signs of spring.
The finches are back. As T and I leave the house for our morning walk, they chirp and sing cheerful airs while hiding in our neighbor's towering blue spruce. Since I can't see them, I imagine them dancing on the tree branches. We join the impromptu festival for a few minutes, relishing the crisp air, warm sun and blue skies while lively birdsongs herald the coming of spring.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for signs of spring.
The finches are back. As T and I leave the house for our morning walk, they chirp and sing cheerful airs while hiding in our neighbor's towering blue spruce. Since I can't see them, I imagine them dancing on the tree branches. We join the impromptu festival for a few minutes, relishing the crisp air, warm sun and blue skies while lively birdsongs herald the coming of spring.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Wednesday, 23 February 2005 - Writer's block
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for writer's block.
I just can't think straight today which means I'm having trouble writing. So, I'm ending this journal entry early. I think someone's trying to tell me to listen more and say less.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for writer's block.
I just can't think straight today which means I'm having trouble writing. So, I'm ending this journal entry early. I think someone's trying to tell me to listen more and say less.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Wednesday, 23 February 2005 - A warm house
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for a warm house.
Our latest home improvement adventure ended yesterday with the installment of a new heating system. We said good-bye to the old furnace and welcomed the new one with open arms.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for a warm house.
Our latest home improvement adventure ended yesterday with the installment of a new heating system. We said good-bye to the old furnace and welcomed the new one with open arms.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Tuesday, 22 February 2005 - Memories preserved in photographs
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for memories preserved in photographs.
My niece, R, celebrates her 16th birthday today. Unfortunately for me, she lives in California so I'm missing another birthday party. I think about her frequently during the day, pausing several times to study the array of photographs through which I celebrate her life.
Click. R is born, a beautiful baby with exquisite blue eyes. Her contented smile tells me that she knows she's part of a wonderful family with the very best parents.
Click. R is three, wearing one of the corduroy jumpers I made for her. She mugs for the camera, making a really silly face. Of course, all I see is the face of an angel.
Click. Click. Click. School pictures. Dance recitals. Christmas mornings. Halloween costumes. Birthday parties. Disneyland. Soccer games. London. Paris. Colorado. Family reunions. High school. And now, Sweet Sixteen.
Happy Birthday, R.
For this blessing, I am very grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for memories preserved in photographs.
My niece, R, celebrates her 16th birthday today. Unfortunately for me, she lives in California so I'm missing another birthday party. I think about her frequently during the day, pausing several times to study the array of photographs through which I celebrate her life.
Click. R is born, a beautiful baby with exquisite blue eyes. Her contented smile tells me that she knows she's part of a wonderful family with the very best parents.
Click. R is three, wearing one of the corduroy jumpers I made for her. She mugs for the camera, making a really silly face. Of course, all I see is the face of an angel.
Click. Click. Click. School pictures. Dance recitals. Christmas mornings. Halloween costumes. Birthday parties. Disneyland. Soccer games. London. Paris. Colorado. Family reunions. High school. And now, Sweet Sixteen.
Happy Birthday, R.
For this blessing, I am very grateful.
Amen.
Monday, February 21, 2005
Monday, 21 February 2005 - My warmest sweater
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for my warmest sweater, electric space heaters and one Chocolate Labrador Retriever asleep at my feet.
The weekend: Our furnace died - an event over which you panic when it's winter and you live in Colorado. My husband discovers the problem early Saturday morning when he awakens to a very cold house. I sigh deeply when I learn of our bad luck - seems like every major plumbing and heating problem we experience occurs at night or on weekends when service calls demand premium rates.
We decide to wait until Monday before seeking professional help. Fortunately, the weather cooperates. On Saturday and Sunday, mild daytime temperatures and bright sunshine warm the west-facing rooms. After sunset, we don extra layers of clothing and run space heaters in the main rooms and basement (to prevent the pipes from freezing). As usual, T is just fine, staying warm under his dense, all-weather fur. At night, he sleeps at my feet while I knit my latest project and watch The Lord of the Rings, Return on the King and Masterpiece Theater.
Monday: S finds a locally-owned HVAC company that doesn't charge an arm and a leg to diagnose heating problems. After meeting with the consultant, we ponder our options: (1) pay for one or more expensive repairs that will put our 18-year old furnace on life-support for a few more years or (2) buy a new heating system that costs much more than any repair but will last another 25 years.
We choose the latter. Now the fun begins. The consultant assesses our needs. We discuss makes and models before selecting a system that will work for us. S skillfully negotiates the price. We sign on the dotted line.
Our purchase includes a modern Lennox two-stage furnace and humidifer complete with the latest safety features and energy efficiencies. They will install the new system tomorrow - just in time for the next wave of wintry weather. We expect an arctic cold front and snow showers Tuesday night.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for my warmest sweater, electric space heaters and one Chocolate Labrador Retriever asleep at my feet.
The weekend: Our furnace died - an event over which you panic when it's winter and you live in Colorado. My husband discovers the problem early Saturday morning when he awakens to a very cold house. I sigh deeply when I learn of our bad luck - seems like every major plumbing and heating problem we experience occurs at night or on weekends when service calls demand premium rates.
We decide to wait until Monday before seeking professional help. Fortunately, the weather cooperates. On Saturday and Sunday, mild daytime temperatures and bright sunshine warm the west-facing rooms. After sunset, we don extra layers of clothing and run space heaters in the main rooms and basement (to prevent the pipes from freezing). As usual, T is just fine, staying warm under his dense, all-weather fur. At night, he sleeps at my feet while I knit my latest project and watch The Lord of the Rings, Return on the King and Masterpiece Theater.
Monday: S finds a locally-owned HVAC company that doesn't charge an arm and a leg to diagnose heating problems. After meeting with the consultant, we ponder our options: (1) pay for one or more expensive repairs that will put our 18-year old furnace on life-support for a few more years or (2) buy a new heating system that costs much more than any repair but will last another 25 years.
We choose the latter. Now the fun begins. The consultant assesses our needs. We discuss makes and models before selecting a system that will work for us. S skillfully negotiates the price. We sign on the dotted line.
Our purchase includes a modern Lennox two-stage furnace and humidifer complete with the latest safety features and energy efficiencies. They will install the new system tomorrow - just in time for the next wave of wintry weather. We expect an arctic cold front and snow showers Tuesday night.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Sunday, 20 February 2005 - The road less traveled
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for the road less traveled.
My decisions may not support popular opinion, but they've made my life unpredictable, challenging and totally mine. As a high school student, I fell in love with Robert Frost's poem, The Road Not Taken, and embraced its message as a theme for my life. During the past 50 years, I've taken many roads heading east, west, north, or south - each one leading to the exact place I was suppose to be for that moment or day or year.
I remember the roads not taken - the "what ifs" and "could haves" of my life. At the end of the day, however, I know that those paths were meant for some else. By choosing them, I would have strayed from my God-given destiny. Instead, I celebrate all the roads I've walked and marvel at how they've brought me to this very point in time. I anticipate my next adventure and hope it leads me to Paris or the French countryside.
I know my days are numbered. Now, as I embrace the autumn of my life, I realize the importance of each new twist and turn in the road. Every runner knows how the race intensifies as the end approaches. The last 100 yards are the longest and most agonizing. Yet, you run harder, sprinting down the straight-away towards the finish line and uncertain victory.
Until I breathe my last breath, I will heartily agree with the traveler in Frost's poem as she explains her dilemma, ultimate choice and conclusion about the whole affair: Two roads diverged in the woods and I, I took the one less traveled by. And that has made all the difference.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Today, I am thankful for the road less traveled.
My decisions may not support popular opinion, but they've made my life unpredictable, challenging and totally mine. As a high school student, I fell in love with Robert Frost's poem, The Road Not Taken, and embraced its message as a theme for my life. During the past 50 years, I've taken many roads heading east, west, north, or south - each one leading to the exact place I was suppose to be for that moment or day or year.
I remember the roads not taken - the "what ifs" and "could haves" of my life. At the end of the day, however, I know that those paths were meant for some else. By choosing them, I would have strayed from my God-given destiny. Instead, I celebrate all the roads I've walked and marvel at how they've brought me to this very point in time. I anticipate my next adventure and hope it leads me to Paris or the French countryside.
I know my days are numbered. Now, as I embrace the autumn of my life, I realize the importance of each new twist and turn in the road. Every runner knows how the race intensifies as the end approaches. The last 100 yards are the longest and most agonizing. Yet, you run harder, sprinting down the straight-away towards the finish line and uncertain victory.
Until I breathe my last breath, I will heartily agree with the traveler in Frost's poem as she explains her dilemma, ultimate choice and conclusion about the whole affair: Two roads diverged in the woods and I, I took the one less traveled by. And that has made all the difference.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Saturday, 19 February 2005 - A time to remember the past
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for a time to remember the past.
My parents and their siblings are members of Tom Brokaw's "greatest generation." But, because of their Japanese ancestry, they suffered many indignities wrought by fear, bigotry and hatred. The worst came after the bombing of Pearl Harbor.
On February 19, 1942, President Franklin D. Rooselvelt signed Executive Order 9066 which "permitted the military to circumvent the constitutional safeguards of American citizens in the name of national defense. The order set into motion the exclusion from certain areas, and the evacuation and mass incarceration of 120,000 persons of Japanese ancestry living on the West Coast, most of whom were U.S. citizens or legal permanent resident aliens" (http://www.children-of-the-camps.org/history/index.html).
For Japanese-Americans, today is Remembrance Day. This morning, I pause to honor the occasion.
Midway through our walk, T and I stand on the ridge and gaze eastward. It's so clear, I can see Kansas. The sun warms my face. I close my eyes, think of my parents, and pray a simple prayer: Dear God, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for a time to remember the past.
My parents and their siblings are members of Tom Brokaw's "greatest generation." But, because of their Japanese ancestry, they suffered many indignities wrought by fear, bigotry and hatred. The worst came after the bombing of Pearl Harbor.
On February 19, 1942, President Franklin D. Rooselvelt signed Executive Order 9066 which "permitted the military to circumvent the constitutional safeguards of American citizens in the name of national defense. The order set into motion the exclusion from certain areas, and the evacuation and mass incarceration of 120,000 persons of Japanese ancestry living on the West Coast, most of whom were U.S. citizens or legal permanent resident aliens" (http://www.children-of-the-camps.org/history/index.html).
For Japanese-Americans, today is Remembrance Day. This morning, I pause to honor the occasion.
Midway through our walk, T and I stand on the ridge and gaze eastward. It's so clear, I can see Kansas. The sun warms my face. I close my eyes, think of my parents, and pray a simple prayer: Dear God, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Friday, February 18, 2005
Friday, 18 February 2005 - Local wildlife
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for the local wildlife with whom we co-exist.
T and I are hiking the trail this morning. It's humid and very cold. I can see T's breath as he stops to sniff the underbrush. I feel the air's icy prickles on my nostrils. I urge T to walk briskly so I can warm up. I'm glad I wore a hat and thick socks.
I usually daydream during our morning walks, preoccupied by what I will write when I return home. However, earlier this week, a lady at the post office warned me about a mountain lion sighting near our neighborhood, so I am more vigilant than usual. I don't anticipate any trouble - we're not hiking during prime mountain lion hours.
As our path winds through the open meadow, I look ahead and see a coyote standing on the trail about 100 feet away. His presence doesn't surprise me. Since we live in the foothills, we're used to seeing wildlife including deer, rabbits, hawks, snakes, coyotes, raccoons, mountain lions, foxes, and bears.
Each wildlife sighting, however, is special. Most of the surrounding open spaces that we've enjoyed for years are now luxury housing developments. As their natural habitats disappear, our wildlife friends retreat to the mountains for refuge. I'm sad to see them go - afterall, they were here first.
We stop so I can observe the coyote's actions. He stares at us with keen eyes, taking a good look at T. Then, sensing that we're harmless, he appears to shrug his shoulders before turning around and casually trotting away. I lose sight of him when he leaves the trail and heads for the scrub oak. I hope he has a very good day at the office.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for the local wildlife with whom we co-exist.
T and I are hiking the trail this morning. It's humid and very cold. I can see T's breath as he stops to sniff the underbrush. I feel the air's icy prickles on my nostrils. I urge T to walk briskly so I can warm up. I'm glad I wore a hat and thick socks.
I usually daydream during our morning walks, preoccupied by what I will write when I return home. However, earlier this week, a lady at the post office warned me about a mountain lion sighting near our neighborhood, so I am more vigilant than usual. I don't anticipate any trouble - we're not hiking during prime mountain lion hours.
As our path winds through the open meadow, I look ahead and see a coyote standing on the trail about 100 feet away. His presence doesn't surprise me. Since we live in the foothills, we're used to seeing wildlife including deer, rabbits, hawks, snakes, coyotes, raccoons, mountain lions, foxes, and bears.
Each wildlife sighting, however, is special. Most of the surrounding open spaces that we've enjoyed for years are now luxury housing developments. As their natural habitats disappear, our wildlife friends retreat to the mountains for refuge. I'm sad to see them go - afterall, they were here first.
We stop so I can observe the coyote's actions. He stares at us with keen eyes, taking a good look at T. Then, sensing that we're harmless, he appears to shrug his shoulders before turning around and casually trotting away. I lose sight of him when he leaves the trail and heads for the scrub oak. I hope he has a very good day at the office.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Thursday, 17 February 2005 - Human interactions
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for human interactions.
Welcome to the world of self-service check-outs. Today, I can borrow books from the library, buy gas at the Shell station, and mail packages at the post office without speaking to a single person as long as I swipe the right card and answer "yes" or "no" when prompted.
Although I love technology and how it improves my life, I prefer to deal directly with people when I run errands. I guess that's why I patronize locally-owned businesses rather than the chains. I like to know the owners personally - spending quality time in their shops so I can learn who they are and what they're thinking. In return, they take very good care of me.
When I walk into the consignment store, Eve tells me that she was thinking about me that morning and shows me an assortment of beautiful clothes in my size. When I walk into the natural foods store, Randy and Patty greet me by name, show me which fruits and vegetables are the freshest, and help me carry my purchases to the car. When I walk into the library, the front desk clerk smiles and asks how my writing is progressing or if I've designed new jewelry or knit new scarves.
Yes, I like to save money, but not if it means sacrificing great service and new friends. You see, for me, the human touch is priceless.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for human interactions.
Welcome to the world of self-service check-outs. Today, I can borrow books from the library, buy gas at the Shell station, and mail packages at the post office without speaking to a single person as long as I swipe the right card and answer "yes" or "no" when prompted.
Although I love technology and how it improves my life, I prefer to deal directly with people when I run errands. I guess that's why I patronize locally-owned businesses rather than the chains. I like to know the owners personally - spending quality time in their shops so I can learn who they are and what they're thinking. In return, they take very good care of me.
When I walk into the consignment store, Eve tells me that she was thinking about me that morning and shows me an assortment of beautiful clothes in my size. When I walk into the natural foods store, Randy and Patty greet me by name, show me which fruits and vegetables are the freshest, and help me carry my purchases to the car. When I walk into the library, the front desk clerk smiles and asks how my writing is progressing or if I've designed new jewelry or knit new scarves.
Yes, I like to save money, but not if it means sacrificing great service and new friends. You see, for me, the human touch is priceless.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Wednesday, 16 February 2005 - Bargain shopping
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for the joys of shopping for a bargain so I can satisfy my champagne tastes on a beer budget.
I love beautiful, well-made, distinctive clothes, shoes and handbags, especially ones bearing designer labels. Thank goodness I am also an excellent shopper with an eye for high quality at low prices. For several years, I've bought most of my wardrobe from consignment stores stocked with incredible deals. Now, one of my favorite resale boutiques resides on Ebay.
"M" sells fabulous, gently-used and new designer clothing, shoes, handbags and accessories for a mere fraction of the original price, perfect for those of us on a budget. The items come from well-heeled closets including her own. One of her friends wears my size, so I love to look at these gorgeous clothes when they come up for auction. If I don't check M's site daily, I'll miss out on the fun. Her customers snap up the bargains, so items rarely remain listed for more than a day.
Although the prospect of buying high fashion at low prices lures me to her site, I also enjoy reading M's descriptions. She is a gifted storyteller. Like an experienced auctioneer, she enthusiastically shares the intimate history behind the item up for bid while extolling its potential for future adventures with a new owner.
The anecdotes and comments personalize the online shopping experience. I may never meet M in person, but I know her clothes very well.
Recently, I read about the "hot" $1,000 Donna Karan jacket that M wore for 5 hours at a holiday cocktail party. She never found another occasion to wear it. So, after a year of indecision, she's selling the jacket for $60. I consider her girlfriend's brand new authentic Fendi purse, a last minute, expensive gift from the husband. It's a steal at $135. I admire the $800 chocolate brown cashmere cardigan sweater selling for $75 (too bad it's too big for me). M explains that she bought it for her sister as a Christmas gift, but ended up giving something else. Now the sweater is ready for a new home.
I always look, engaging in the sport of "cyber window shopping," but only buy occasionally. Since I no longer wear a corporate uniform, most of the clothes, shoes and accessories don't fit my jeans and sweater lifestyle. I did, however, splurge on a luxurious $700 designer suit made from French wool and cashmere, paying $40 for this amazing outfit. When I saw the photograph of the suit, I fell in love with the jacket. Now that it's mine, I can report that it fits perfectly and looks great with jeans. But, more importantly, I feel like a million bucks each time I wear it.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for the joys of shopping for a bargain so I can satisfy my champagne tastes on a beer budget.
I love beautiful, well-made, distinctive clothes, shoes and handbags, especially ones bearing designer labels. Thank goodness I am also an excellent shopper with an eye for high quality at low prices. For several years, I've bought most of my wardrobe from consignment stores stocked with incredible deals. Now, one of my favorite resale boutiques resides on Ebay.
"M" sells fabulous, gently-used and new designer clothing, shoes, handbags and accessories for a mere fraction of the original price, perfect for those of us on a budget. The items come from well-heeled closets including her own. One of her friends wears my size, so I love to look at these gorgeous clothes when they come up for auction. If I don't check M's site daily, I'll miss out on the fun. Her customers snap up the bargains, so items rarely remain listed for more than a day.
Although the prospect of buying high fashion at low prices lures me to her site, I also enjoy reading M's descriptions. She is a gifted storyteller. Like an experienced auctioneer, she enthusiastically shares the intimate history behind the item up for bid while extolling its potential for future adventures with a new owner.
The anecdotes and comments personalize the online shopping experience. I may never meet M in person, but I know her clothes very well.
Recently, I read about the "hot" $1,000 Donna Karan jacket that M wore for 5 hours at a holiday cocktail party. She never found another occasion to wear it. So, after a year of indecision, she's selling the jacket for $60. I consider her girlfriend's brand new authentic Fendi purse, a last minute, expensive gift from the husband. It's a steal at $135. I admire the $800 chocolate brown cashmere cardigan sweater selling for $75 (too bad it's too big for me). M explains that she bought it for her sister as a Christmas gift, but ended up giving something else. Now the sweater is ready for a new home.
I always look, engaging in the sport of "cyber window shopping," but only buy occasionally. Since I no longer wear a corporate uniform, most of the clothes, shoes and accessories don't fit my jeans and sweater lifestyle. I did, however, splurge on a luxurious $700 designer suit made from French wool and cashmere, paying $40 for this amazing outfit. When I saw the photograph of the suit, I fell in love with the jacket. Now that it's mine, I can report that it fits perfectly and looks great with jeans. But, more importantly, I feel like a million bucks each time I wear it.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
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