Last weekend I ran across this book, "Mike Mars, Astronaut," at a yard sale. It was published in 1961 and had some cool illustrations in it. I bought it, along with some others, with the idea of using them in artwork. But, before I started ripping that one up I thought I should see if it was something the museum would like. I had to go to the Cosmosphere last Saturday anyway because a newspaper crew was coming in, so I just took the book straight to the office. Monday I looked it up and found out it's the first in a series, and is worth a few dollars. When I say, "few," I mean five or six - not exactly the proverbial goldmine.
I ran into Meredith from collections on Saturday and mentioned it. Monday I sent her the info I'd found on it online. She told me they'd definitely like to have it, so I donated it to the museum.
It's kind of cool that I've had any part in putting something in a museum, but it's not like it was my long loved, dearly appreciated book from childhood. Regardless, it's fun.
This has been a frantically busy week. Monday night I made calls for Trish, Tuesday night I was at the courthouse for the returns. Wednesday evening I went to the library for a scheduled meeting but no one else was there so it was obviously cancelled and I had missed that information. Thursday was hectic all day at work and then we had the Social Media Club gathering after work. Today I worked until 7 tonight and didn't even take a lunch break. Now the weekend is here and there are a ton of things I need to get done here. Tuesday night is Creative Sisterhood so I have to clean up enough everyone has a place to sit! They don't expect much more than that from me.
It's quite odd, really, because I'm drawn to photos and the idea of having a house that's a delight to be in all the time. But my own house is cluttered here and there with projects and books and dishes and other things I collect. Of course I could get rid of all those things, but I like them. There's the rub - finding a way to live with the things I love. I just can't imagine a time when I'm going to pass up a stack of hand crocheted doilies and such. I am most likely going to buy them to bring them home and love them if they're affordable.
I realize that none of these things are valuable to other people, and when I'm gone they'll be in the yard with 25 cents written on them, but in the meantime I enjoy them and love them. Maybe I just have extra love for those sorts of things.
This weekend is the flea market. I was thinking it has been awhile since I've run across a recipe card file box for sale. I love those things, filled with recipes deemed important for that life, and that family. Maybe I'll find one this weekend. Who knows what I'll find, but something wonderful I'm betting.
