The Fabrics were Calling to Me in Postcards 4

I arrived at the convention center determined to not spend a thing. Not one dime. Folks in those sales booths all tried to sell me their products. “It had been a slow show,” one saleswoman told me. Everything was on sale.

I resisted the three thousand dollar sewing table that rose and fell and tilted and had built in everything. Many bought the new cutting boards that last forever. I didn’t. Tho I was fascinated by the lights that showed various kinds of lighting, I didn’t buy one. Aisle after aisle of new products and new things that I couldn’t live without were now left behind. I was very proud of me.

The last booth on the last aisle was called “Second Chance Fabrics.” That’s exactly what they were too. A yard or less of a fabric that hadn’t been used by their first owners. I stood for the longest time just looking at the fabric rows before I walked away. But I went back. These fabrics, at some very low prices, were calling to me. I ended up buying a handful that I can use in the new quilt with only a little guilt.

• Himself: Feeling himself again.
• Herself: Hives fading. Stomach good. Tired.
• Reading: Skimming the new Jance.
• Gratitudes: That I’m going to be ok so easily.