Last weekend I went riding on my bicycle to a few Garage Sales in the neighborhood. The main reason is to get some exercise on a pleasant morning, but I also like having a destination in mind.
While I park my bike off in a corner where I can keep an eye on it, I usually admonish the proprietor that “it is Not for Sale”. Most look at me a bit strangely; some say they’ll look after it while I shop.
I shrug at them, but keep my “possession radar” on alert.
At two different sales, a customer other than me asked “How much for the bicycle?” and I would let the host answer in some way about ‘Not for Sale or That one belongs to her’.
See what I mean? years of experience speaking here.
I love that bike—Husband has it tweeked out just for me, with handgrips and flashing light, etc.
When I’m out ‘shopping’, I have a canvas bag with a shoulder strap. Another reason I ride my bicycle for these events is the thought in the back of my mind saying “If it doesn’t fit in the bag so I can carry it home, I didn’t really need it in the first place”.
Helps keep the STUFF problem to a minimum.
There was one time about four years ago when I found a nicely framed picture for a dollar. It is oil paints on canvas, already in the wood frame. Probably done by a grad student at the university, so some fancy art critic might find flaws.
I really like the picture. I wanted it enough that I balanced it on my bicycle and lumbered home walking, stopping to make adjustments, or to rest my wrists.
The picture hangs beside the door in our bedroom. It is the second thing my eyes see in the morning (the first being Mahalia while she is sitting on the bedside table).
Even though the reason this photo looks blurry is my shaky hands holding the camera, it also gives the idea of how well I see without my glasses.
The water flowing down the valley seems naturally peaceful.
When I look at it, I feel calm.
When I was shopping the other day, I bought a small steel bowl and a couple shirts. All easily fit in my bag.
I am glad I broke away from my bicycle custom at least once.
~~love and Huggs, Diane
One Response to Came home with Bicycle