My BFF and I planned this one, which we both looked forward to all week.
We stop at all yarn and fiber related shops. That's a given.
We love back roads.
And we love to investigate.
As we were coming out of a 'sweet' little yarn shop, we saw this down the street.
A place that deals in salvage.
For me, it's like a blast from the past. I grew up with 'salvage'. It was just a normal everyday part of my life. My father scoured the countryside, filled up a big barn like structure that he attached to OUR HOUSE, and sold it for a second income. He already worked as a painter in the paper mill.
The building grew and grew. Every year or so, he would make it bigger, and every year, it would seem to almost groan with the piles of goods he packed into it.
This felt like home to me, except that it was much more organized than my father's stuff.
My father never advertised. People just came. Word of mouth, he said, was the best advertisement of all.
We never sat down to a meal that wasn't interrupted.
"Somebody's here." I can still hear the sing song way my father said that.
Like: can ya' believe it? some one is here at dinner time........again?
And one of the most intriguing and dear memories I have of my father, is riding in the truck with him, looking for treasures.
Oh, yeah, plastic fish and church pews.....right up my Dad's alley.
No one appeared while we wandered around. There was an office, and I guess whoever was in charge figured we would holler if we needed them. It wasn't like anything in here would have been small enough to be carried out unnoticed.
Someone fixing up an old house could be in heaven right here.
There was every possible fixture you could ever want.
Even though most of the people who remember me growing up are gone, in my head, I am still 'Morty Cooper's daughter'.
And finally, that's ok.
Funny, how weaving is to me, what salvage was to him.
Now here's a tub that's long enough for me.....hallelujah.
They usually aren't.
Walk with me.......check out this awesome stash of STUFF.
And they even have an UPSTAIRS.
Be still my heart......I love posts and columns.
So don't say I never take you anywhere......cause I do.
This is the building from the outside.
It's a brute.
I wanted one of each of everything in there.
Back to weaving tomorrow.