Black Friday Fail

About three weeks ago I "hit the slide" at work and gave my notice.  I've been juggling 4 different jobs for some time now and the mental and physical toll it has taken has proven to be WAY. TOO. MUCH.  When you find yourself standing at the front door of your house trying to get in using the remote door opener for your car - it's time to step back. When you collapse in tears because it isn't working and you can't figure out how you will get inside your house....well, desperate times call for desperate measures. (PS I've still got a part-time bookkeeping job and I work at my husband's store, so it's not like I'm really free......)

I'm cashing in the 10 hours a week I spent on the road for some sleep and rest. I've had a few days at home to begin the process of uncoiling my tightly wrapped head and body and I have the following observations to make:

1. I can still sleep for hours like a champ.


2. There is an unbelievable amount of CRAP on TV.


3. What the hell is going on with "Black Friday"?

I'll say right up front:  I think stores should be closed on Sundays. Period. With the extended hours and 24 hour openings of most drugstores, there really isn't any urgent reason for stores to be open on Sundays. Seriously. With that in mind, you won't be surprised to hear me bitch about store openings on Thanksgiving. When did it become a matter of life and death for stores to be open ON Thanksgiving Day?  Or at 4am?  or 6AM on Black Friday? Target I think you should be horsewhipped.  Do you hate your employees that much? I'm boycotting you for the foreseeable future.  WalMart? Oh hell,  I stopped shopping at your stores years ago so I'm not wasting my breath acknowledging your existence and continued scorched-earth policies. I really don't get the whole "thing" about getting up early to go shopping but then I'm not a recreational shopper.  For me it's a chore. Besides, I can't think of a single thing that would move my tail out of bed at 4 AM on a cold, dark November morning. Not. A. Single. Thing.

Ever hear that expression, "Money is like manure - you've got to spread it around"? I choose to spread my fertilizer around where I live. Area shops have the most wonderful (and unique) gifts. There is a new toy store that has the coolest things I've ever seen. They also have an art supply store! I'd go nuts in there, but I'd be buying for myself. There are a couple of great locally owned, non-chain coffee shops for when you need to rest and refuel. I'm betting your town has the same kind of deal going but too often people overlook the local shops or take the time to go and see what is there to choose from.   (Most of them haven't set foot in downtown for years and have no accurate clue about what is or isn't available.)  To these people I say, "STUPID. STUPID."  You must have time and money to burn.  Good for you.  I don't.

There is the argument that you'll save money if you go to malls, but I'm concerned with more than that -  I'm looking at the time and effort and the cost of gas it takes to get there.  Spend $10 more for a sweater in town or save $10 and go to the mall.... let's see,  it is a 46 mile round trip, about 3 hours (including driving and shopping), working my way through the crows, waiting in line or ..... for $10 more I'm home in 5 minutes?  Bonus - a local small business owner gets a little help?  For me - that's a no brainer. Win win.

There is a wonderful campaign called Small Business Saturday that encourages people to shop locally once a month.  The impact would be absolutely life changing for your town, your community and your friends.  Support local artists - buy handmade.  Do it often, not just once a month.  Change the world. Tell the big banks to suck it.  OCCUPY MAIN STREET.  Do the right thing, do it as often as you can. Everyone wins and for that we can all give thanks - hopefully from the  peace and quiet of our own snug homes.

The Gift of a Lifetime

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Got home from work Tuesday evening to find a package from my sister in the mailbox.  It was my mother's quilt journal, in her possession ever since we sorted through and divided up mom's stash. I had pretty much forgotten about it but when I opened it up I immediately burst into tears. (Hey, it was election day and my husband was running for reelection. Major stress.)  Just the sight of her handwriting on those pages overwhelmed me - why is it such an intimate thing to see the handwriting of a lost loved one?  I started paging through, reading bits and pieces and laughing hysterically at all the sales receipts for fabric tucked in between the pages.  Mom was a fanatic about keeping track of money,  writing down what you spend, etc. Much to her frustration it NEVER caught on with any of her daughters.

I keep a sort of quilt journal (or so I thought) until I went back for a second, more thorough reading of Mom's journal. Mine just lists the quilt,  when I started it, why I made it, etc. Mom took quilt journalism to a new level - why was I surprised?  She talks about the fabric, the colors, where she goofed on some part or other, the brand name of the batting she used, notes about how well it did or did not needle, who the quilt was for, measurements, dates - in an astonishing level of detail. She added bits about a class she took here, a shop hop there, a book (title AND publisher) she was given for Christmas or a birthday, reviews of quilt shows and coveting the work of others.  I also learned she had a bunch of purple and blue ribbons on quilts she exhibited at fairs, and I wondered about where those ribbons  ended up. I also found a cheat sheet she used when giving a talk once to a guild. It just had bullet points about many things, but there was a section on how quilts are a wonderful gift for commemorating birthdays and anniversaries.  Then she had "45th anniversary quilt"  listed as her next talking point.  It was good I was sitting down, because my knees would have buckled.  That was the quilt made by her 3 daughters - my sister Pat pieced the top, she mailed it to me for hand quilting and I mailed it to Peg to do the binding.

I have written about the family quilt before,  but I was not prepared to see it come so full circle.  The quilt we made for their 45th anniversary was the same one we used to cover Mom's casket at her funeral, and brought it out again for Dad in April of this year.  The gift of a lifetime?  Apparently it has become the gift of many lifetimes.  Her quilt journal is so rich in family history and information - by adding the year or date or occasion, it is now possible to remember when and how old Dad  was when had his stent surgery (important to a brother who is worried about the same), who received which quilts, the date of their last visit to Gloucester, and the satisfaction of knowing how many of my cousins have a bit of her work in a wall hanging, place mats, or quilt.

I don't see myself as ever being as prolific in my quilting as my Mom, but I do know I need to document in much more detail what I have done.  I've already forgotten about quilts I have made for babies, to send off for this or that, and I think I need to be better about it all. I'm not sure who will know or care down the road, but  I know from her example it will have had impact on someone, somewhere.  Thanks Mom -  you've been gone 10 years next week and I still learn valuable lessons from you all the time.