“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 628 (Saturday)

It was a bit chilly and a vintage coat was pulled from the furthest corner of the closet. It’s navy blue, nearly knee length to combat the morning chill, and coordinated with today’s outfit.

The coat is one of several vintage coats living in the closet. The “collection” began in my 20s when Mummu gave me her black cashmere coat with a detachable fur collar. She said when she was young, she use to love to flip the coat open to display the large label declaring “100% Pure Cashmere.” Today, we sport designer labels, but apparently, in the olden days and in some circles, it was fiber content that signaled prestige.

Tree topper?
Nah, "Sculpture."

Today’s coat was not cashmere. It was a nubby wool fabric. During the course of the day, my coat and I went to a Finnish Breakfast, church Christmas Bazaar, a consignment shop, car wash, gas station, and a couple thrift stores. 

Most of the stops were out in Fitchburg and some were with Mom. The scarf came off once to avoid being too hot in a store, but the coat collar scratched my neck the entire time. As soon I was back in the car, the scarf went back on. I almost bought a super soft teal acrylic sweater at one shop, until a hole was discovered that I didn’t feel like having to fix. Later, there was temptation in the form of an Irish cable cardigan bearing a tag “Knit by Edna,” but the yarn was a bit scratchy, and my neck was currently in itchy torment from my coat collar with no scarf. It was still a contender until I took inventory of all the many stains on it that I didn't feel like dealing with.

Lots of money was saved today, but not from being in thrift shops. It was thanks to not really needing anything and also not seeing anything I couldn’t live without. The expenditures were breakfast, gas, the pricier car wash with the wheel wash, and a snowflake Christmas tree topper for $1 from the “Attic” rummage sale section of the church event. There are no plans for a tree for it to top, so at my house, it's a freestanding sculpture.

It wasn’t until 5:00 that I remembered I never made it to the Post Office, and worse, that I missed the reception for the Members’ Exhibit at The Brush Art Gallery. The stamps aren’t a crisis (yet), but missing the reception was a big, stupid mistake. It seems it would probably be smart to consult the calendar a bit more often instead of being all happy-go-lucky and winging it when I venture out into the world.