Patsy Terrell

Lived fully, laughed loudly, gave generously

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What Does a Chicken Purse Say About A Person?

And what did I see? A chicken purse staring back at me.

I popped into the local, coolness on a stick, downtown grocery/gift store, Smith’s Market, and there it was in all its bright, perky yellow glory. The Chicken Purse. Am I the last person on the planet to know such a thing exists?

Well, not the last, because I’ve been making it my mission to spread the joy of the chicken purse since then. It has been the subject of two Facebook posts and now a blog post. Others are enchanted with it as well. How can you not be, after all?

Why do I want a chicken purse? I don’t know. I just know it’s cool. Do I think it makes me cool to carry a cool chicken purse? No, it doesn’t work that way, unfortunately. Frankly, I’m not even sure I care about cool anymore. If I did, I probably wouldn’t wear plastic yellow beads from the 60s. Or maybe I would. Is that cool or is that just weird? There’s such a fine line between them it seems. (Although it occurs to me as I type this that my yellow plastic beads would be set off nicely by a chicken purse. Or the other way around. Regardless, apparently I already own items that go with a chicken purse. Who would have guessed?)

Is that “carrying a cool chicken purse makes me cool” thought lurking in my psyche somewhere? I can’t say. I just know it’s a cool bag. I mean, just look at it in all its perky goodness. I can’t hope for something to make me cool. But I know it’s cool.

Do I own a chicken purse? No, I do not. Why? Because I’m trying to stop buying things I don’t really need. Well, with the exception of vintage goodies like linens and pins – and the occasional vintage purse. After all, I’m a girl who has a lot of things – a lot of cool things.

Before too long I might have one more cool thing, that has magically taken the form of a chicken purse.

No, no, no…

I must resist…

But I already have the beads…

And it’s a chicken purse for goodness sake…

Did you see it…

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Some After Christmas Shopping

It wasn’t in the plans. It just happened.

How many stories start out that way?

Of course, they often involve teenagers in cars. This one involves a car, but that’s where the similarity ends.

Coming back from Joplin last night I wanted to get out of the car and walk as a preventive measure to avoid blood clots. It was cold, so we stopped at a Walmart – nicely heated to walk around a bit.

Now, the week after Christmas, where do you think I’m going to go in a Walmart?

Exactly.

But the part of the story that’s missing is that this Walmart had marked the ornaments down to fifty cents a box. Yes. Fifty cents. And they had some cool things.

Now I have some cool things.

And so does Greg.

I wanted to get some things for the Cosmosphere, but we literally ran out of room, so I went back today to get some goodies for work.

Today it was a frenzy so I’m glad I didn’t delay. And today I had a van, which meant I didn’t have the same problem I had last night.

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Shopping the Day After Christmas

An appalling lack of shame is the only explanation for why I share these photos with you today.

I had to actually drive to the far end of a parking lot and take my purchases made early in the day out of my car and repack them neatly to get everything I bought into the car while still allowing me to see out the back window.. Then I visited three more stores.

This was the passenger seat in the front of the car, today, after I piled things from the back seat into it, so I could clear it for the tree boxes. Oh… did I not mention the trees…

These are destined to be in my front yard next year… powered by the assemblage of timers and outdoor cords I also purchased today.

I keep a lot of things in the car this time of year – a blanket, jackets, coats, sweaters, etc. At 6:45 this morning I just piled the first crop of trees on top of them. Then I bought some for Greg, too. Then I bought other things and they were not laying flat in the backseat and things were teetering and well… I had to pull to the end of a parking lot and rearrange. I believe this is a first for me and I’m a veteran of Dec. 26 shopping.

I’m not a big shopper. It’s not my favorite thing. In fact, clothes shopping is a version of hell for me. Who wants to get dressed and undressed that many times in the span of a few hours? But the day after Christmas I turn into Robo Shopper. I didn’t even think there were that many things I wanted today. I expect to come home with wrapping paper and some ornaments and such, but today I got more “utilitarian” things, if you can refer to any sort of decoration in that way. But photo-cell timers aren’t the same as sparkly ornaments.

I did pick up a few ornaments, but nothing major. Greg was able to net the Hallmark Barbie ornaments I wanted.

OK… I know… consumerism, commercialism, etc. etc. etc. Just one day a year I want to be Robo Shopper. Just one day. It’s a hobby. I’m not saying it’s a reasonable one or a good one, but I’m saying it could be a worse one.

And you don’t think this happens without “stuff” do you?????

And, yes, not to worry – I bought a case of lights today as backups.

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A Retail Day

Well, I’ve been out tonight shopping for a dishwasher. The repair person came today and said not to even try to fix this one. It’s the motor. So, I’ve been to Home Depot, Lowes and Sears tonight shopping. I think Lowes is the winner and part of the reason is that they can probably install it on Friday.And they’ll haul away the old one. That’s another bonus. You’d think people would catch on to what you want when you’re dealing with something like this. Of course they’re going to remove it. But if they don’t haul it away I still have a problem.

In addition, I need to buy a new cable modem it seems. I believe that is the problem with my computer setup. I don’t understand that at all – seems like it would work or not work – not be doing something inbetween. But, that seems to be the answer anyway.

So many places for money to go.

Teresa and I went to dinner tonight at the new place downtown. It’s not going to last unless they make some major changes. Namely, the food is bad. We both had a chicken dish and there was nothing about it that was appealing. The salad was not fresh. They were serving the same crappy vegetable medley that everyone does – steamed carrots, broccoli and cauliflower. We all know that it comes frozen in those combinations. Please, go buy a vegetable every once in awhile.

I hope they improve, but to say I was not impressed is a gross understatement. They’re in a building where the last person did all this amazing work on these cool tin ceiling tiles – hand painted them – they’re gorgeous tiles. You’re greeted with stained glass in the front. It’s beautiful. And then you go in and find tables with vinyl table coverings on them. Please. Make up your mind. Do you want to be an elegant place of a vinyl tablecloth place?

That place couldn’t decide between being elegant or a sports bar. These people are really trying for elegant – you gotta get rid of the vinyl and spotted glasses if you’re doing that. Food was bad at the last place. It’s bad at this place. I’ve never been in the restaurant business – nor do I want to be – but I know what makes a place good and what makes it bad. I would give them the advice freely, but I’ve learned it’s not advice anyone wants.

I hit both Westlakes today looking for candy canes. Peggy called this morning that she’d seen some at the north store. I needed to pick up a prescription at Coberly’s next door anyway so got those. I checked the south store but their’s weren’t deeply discounted. I also popped in to Smith’s Market, which I love. I’ve had quite the retail day.

Well, I’d best go wash the dishes I put in the dishwasher last night. That, of course, was just prior to discovering it didn’t work. So, I get to handle all those dirty dishes again. Lucky me! But I don’t want to leave them, even if I can get a new one installed on Friday, because I’ll be cooking on Friday evening for Peggy’s party on Saturday.

I think I’m also going to fix myself some tea. My voice is scratchy sounding and my throat is a little hoarse. I don’t feel bad at all but it could use a little soothing. When I first wake up until mid afternoon – or until I’ve talked a lot – I sound pretty awful. Peggy thought she woke me up this morning at 10 or so when she called. Of course, it’s impossible to wake me up with the phone because I don’t take it upstairs at night. But, I do sound like I just woke up for hours every day. Maybe I need to sing to myself every morning for awhile.