30 Apr

I stopped in a thrift store yesterday with thoughts of an old atlas perhaps, or maybe a vintage map. It’s not for lack of supplies that I go hunting, I’ve just had travel on my mind, and at the top of my list for a scheme for a new book cover. Somewhere between the entrance and the book corner, I passed a rack of red sweaters. I started thumbing through them, always on the hunt for wool. Nearly all of them were cotton or acrylic, with a few wool blends mixed in- nothing suitable for felting. Two-thirds of the way through, I gave up, telling myself I didn’t really need more sweaters in my growing pile, and not certain that they’re worth the $6.99. (As a diehard thrift store shopper for the last decade and a half, I seriously object to these outrageous prices.)

The hunt for interesting paper goods left me empty-handed, and just as I headed for the exit, I came upon five racks of sweaters marked 75% off. Nearly giddy at the wonderland of fiber, I cast off all previous feelings of surplus (too much wool? too many sweaters? pshaw! nonsense, I say). 100% wool sweaters have seemed hard to come by in recent years, thanks either to the dawn of a whole new breed of synthetics to mix in, or the recent popularity of felting and recycling (great for the environment. lousy for my stash). But here on these racks, sweater after sweater fell into my arms. In the end I practiced a good deal of restraint, I might say, and walked away with only six. Oddly enough, all in a bizarrely pastel-ish, easter egg sort of palette (colors I typically leave for, well, easter eggs). 


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