The Thrift Store Desert

When I was a child growing up in the flatlands of Illinois, I truly enjoyed roaming the freshly plowed fields looking for arrowheads. My family owned a piece of property that was known as an area full of Native American artifacts. Farmers had been finding them for years. I began hunting arrowheads at the young age of 6, often not finding anything, but always content to look. After school, on weekends, through the summer harvest, etc…… As I got older, I found that I could look in the stream at the bottom of the hill and find arrowheads and stone tools there as well. I could do this at anytime and it became my new hang out. I think that rock hunting served a purpose to get me out of a house of 5 children and give me some alone time. At times, I became tired of looking and my curiosity waned and wavered. Then, just as I felt distraught and ready to quit rock hunting for good, I would find that almost perfect arrowhead. With my new treasure to add to the collection, my vigor for the hunt would renew. I wanted to take a minute and reflect on this because I find myself going through the same cycle with the garage sale/thrift store hunt. I now search for other things (but if given the opportunity, I would still go out daily to look for rocks and arrowheads) and it seems that when you have to find something , like a pair of shoes for a wedding to match your nice dress, on a timeline—you can’t find it no matter how many places you look. And when you are least expecting it ---and don’t need it by Saturday---- the perfect pair of shoes will show up. Sometimes I wonder if it is kharma, sometimes I wonder if it is luck, sometimes I wonder if us hunters are really just “sick” and as Rosie W. says "need to go to a therapy group for our addiction”, but in the end when the hunt is satisfying, the sense of accomplishment is palatable. As Rosie W. commented that the beginning of the season has been lukewarm, I told her that for a couple for weeks there, I felt like we were in the desert of thrifting. No matter how early I got up on Saturday and how many counties I thrifted in, I could not find some precise items that I was looking for. Believe me, these items were not that unique and typically abundant. I had hit a level of high frustration and wondered, why was I putting all of this energy into the hunt and not getting anything out of it other than an empty tank of gas and a weary spirit. I know a lot of folks go through this and give up. My wonderful husband knew that I was feeling unsuccessful and decided to take me thrifting in Wilkesboro for my birthday and we hit the jackpot, an oasis in the middle of the thrift store desert. I was instantly renewed. Practice makes perfect is what I try and remind myself when the hunting gets tough. I am building skills looking. Honing in on how quick my eye can pick out certain fabrics, colors, styles, etc—I am training myself how to scan lots of items quickly and move in for the buy swiftly. Practice makes perfect even when you are tired and disheartened. Hang in there hunters, your oasis may be at the next stop.