A Busy Weekend and New Things

This weekend I went out to my school for our annual Auction. I haven't been in years, but on Saturday I met up with my best friend, and we bought chicken corn soup and apple dumplings and watched the bidding on home goods, furniture, and the "class baskets." I ran into some old friends and soaked up some nostalgia. It was perfect. Later in the day, I went over to the school where Peter teaches where there was a similar homecoming event. We ate BBQ chicken and watched a soccer game, then Pete played in a staff vs. alumni volleyball tournament. It was a lot of fun, and we even won a rocking chair at the silent auction.

When we were ready to go home, I decided to drive out to a nearby furniture outlet first. They're going out of business and I thought I'd check for a cheap love seat. All the furniture in our apartment - and I mean all of it - was used. It was either mine previously, Peter's previously, or we bought it second hand, or it belonged to a family member who graciously gave it to us. We did not own a single new item. Our beautiful queen bed belonged to my cousin. I haggled for our retro kitchen table set at an antique store. The hutch by the door was in Pete's parents' basement and Dad repainted it for us. Many of these items we love partially for the stories that come with them. They are family pieces that we were proud to inherit. Our love seat, though, which belonged to Peter's grandmother, was one piece we did not plan to keep for long.

The love seat on move-in day... when the living room was clean.

The pattern was a seventies floral, brown and mustard and splashes of turquoise. But the whole thing was a few shades darker than its original color, made dirty by the years. It was a sturdy piece of furniture, and we appreciated having it when we moved in, but it was first on the list to be replaced.

Thus, I went to the furniture outlet. As I came in the door, I was greeted by a tall man in a white button down shirt with greying hair.

"I guess I'm your furniture salesman," he said. "I'm Rick. What are you looking for?"

I told him just a love seat, and he said most things were being sold in sets, but he knew of two love seats being sold singly. I liked one, texted a picture of it to Pete, called Dad to ask if it was a good deal, and within a half hour, I was driving to the warehouse to pick it. Peter's dad met me with the pick up truck, and then brought it over to our house.

The new love seat, in Olympic Chocolate.

Now, it's in the living room, our first truly "new" home item. I like it. Pete loves it. He napped on it this afternoon. I'm cozied up on it now. It's settling in and becoming part of the things that make up home.

In other weekend news, I hung out with my Bible Study girls Friday night to throw Jen a baby shower, Sunday afternoon we celebrated Peter's dad's birthday, and just this evening I made bread pudding. Most interesting of all, though, on Saturday I met a woman in the parking lot of Martin's who told me her whole life story as if I were an old friend. She saw me taking a picture in the parking lot (because I'll miss Martin's and I wanted a picture of it) and she pulled up beside me in her minivan and said, "Oh, I'm so glad you're taking a picture! I was just going to take a picture, because I'm out in the middle of nowhere, aren't I, and I wanted to show my son where I went to get fabric for his little girl, but I was worried I'd offend someone by taking a picture of this place!" It was quite sweet, actually. She told me how tough her job is and what it was like being a single mom who wasn't out to land a new husband, but was focused on her kids, and how people always think she's younger than she is which was always fine, but now she's a grandmother and she doesn't want people to think she's a "hoochie-mama," so now she wants to look her age for the first time... I'll be praying for this woman, a special ed teacher in Philadelphia who's helping her son raise a 9-year-old granddaughter whose mom died four years ago. Her name is Laura, and you can pray for her too.

New things: Jen's coming-in-two-weeks baby. Laura's story. A rocking chair. Our chocolate love seat. The bread pudding cooling on the counter. And the week that's about to begin.

Extravagance

I have started playing a game with myself when I go food shopping each weekend. The game is: buy as little as possible. The game is secretly: spend as little money as possible, but that is not as fun. I challenge myself to recall what I already have at home, and to work with those items, plus a carefully selected collection of economical new items, to create a week's worth of food for me and Pete.

Today I played the game in an even more challenging environment. After church today we went on a date to... Wegman's. Although we agree there is nothing inherently wrong with the veritable cornucopia of fruits, vegetables, breads, cheeses, meats, seafood delicacies, and baked goods, the abundance of food at Wegman's seems a bit extreme. And it does make it extremely easy to fall into greediness and to desire the luxurious life that is associated with cartfuls of expensive food. Walking by displays of bright orange peppers, just-misted bunches of fresh parsley, bundles of sunflowers, and $4 menu magazines is tempting. But I actually did well with my game at Wegman's today. The one luxury I planned to purchase - English crumpets - was out of stock. So I was spared that indulgence.

For a girl who's become accustomed to shopping at ALDI - where there are absolutely no frills - the extravagance of Wegman's is a bit of a shock. So are the women in heeled leather boots drinking lattes while they shop for organic fat free ice cream and Romanesco broccoli. There's a woman handing out tiny sample cups of just-squeezed orange juice. A small child is screaming at the gelato bar where her grandmother is about to buy her chocolate ice cream. There's a whole aisle of various international foods (although NOT crumpets). There's a miniature train set suspended from the ceiling that chug-a-chug-chug's in a loop above your head in the cheese section. The environment of the luxury grocery store is a bit embarrassing.

But at the heart of Wegman's and ALDI is the fulfillment of a basic human need - the need to eat. And if I can create meals that tantalize, satisfy, and nourish us, I don't think it matters where I've purchased the ingredients. Wegman's is a place to ponder the creativity of God in his design of a world full of edible things. At ALDI, food is just food; no fanfare. Either place, it's a loaves and fishes game to make something plentiful out of whatever I can afford. Sometimes, tossing in a little something extra is alright too. Today, a five-dollar container of gourmet olives from the Mediterranean Bar was not on the shopping list, but it made Pete's day. And for my splurge - if you know where I can get crumpets, let me know.