They are the bane of my life.
I know that some of my lovely readers are fans of cats; they no doubt already know of my disdain, because I am not shy in proclaiming it.
Here's the thing.
If cats were like dogs, required to stay in one's yard or be on a leash when outside of it, I would have no problem with them. But somewhere in our cultural history, cats became the kings and queens of the neighbourhood, left unrestrained to do whatever they please, wherever they please.
Which usually means spraying my front door regularly, leaving toilet refuse in my flowerbeds, killing the goldfinches that eat at our thistle feeders, and leaving their sad little corpses for me to find.
So no, I do not like cats.
And don't ever get Jeff started on the subject either, or you will wish you were a million miles away on Mars.
After our next-door neighbours moved away, we were cat-free for a few months. It was lovely. But the last couple of weeks we have been suddenly inundated. Yesterday, I counted five different cats in my yard. They are back to spraying the front door, stalking around the garden, and yowling and fighting at night when I am trying to go to sleep. Consequently, cats have been on my mind. A lot.
On Wednesdays, I spend the day in McMinnville, where I do a morning music therapy group, peruse Grocery Outlet (because you never know what goodies you will find) and then spend my lunch hour at Bethany's house. I smooch on Madelyn and watch Natalie joyfully bopping around as she sings or practises the piano. Then I do an afternoon group and pick up my raw milk from the farm on my way home to teach piano lessons. It is a long day.
Today, Bethany was gone, so I decided to pick the milk up after the first group. As I was driving along Lafayette Avenue, not in any particular hurry, I spotted an interesting-looking thrift shop.
I used to turn my nose up at garage sales and thrift shops, but about five years ago I became addicted to summer garage sales and now spend all winter frothing at the mouth, waiting for a sunny weekend to hit so that the garage sales will appear.
Thrift shops took a bit longer, till the Goodwill opened in Newberg last year.
You remember The Skirt?
I still think Goodwill is a bit too expensive, compared to, say, garage sales, but then I discovered the Hospital Thrift store in town. I found an ironing board for Jeff for only $2, and suddenly I can't get enough of thrift stores.
So, back to the riveting story.
I whipped around smartly and pulled into the parking lot, which was empty.
This, my friends, is a monarch among thrift stores. No clothes, but lots of nice stuff. I heard the volunteers talking about pricing items on Amazon, so they take their junk seriously.
Anyhoo, I found an electric ice-cream maker, for which I have been searching a few months, for only $5. This whole stash only cost $10.50. The cotton yarn is for Lori (hey Lori, I'm going to start charging a finder's fee! J/K) and the glass bottle is made in Italy. I have a weakness for Italian glass. It is my only one. Weakness, that is. The four little Noritake plates just spoke to me and they were only a dollar, so I had to have them. The puzzle was half-price and is mostly unused, so will go to Vista House.
I know, you're all (all two of you) wondering what cats have in common with a thrift shop.
Well, follow this link to read about a unique place. You will see that it benefits a no-kill animal shelter and you can pet, brush, and play with adoptable cats when you get tired of shopping.
If you happen to like cats, that is.
Which I don't.
But I do like their thrift shop.
P.S. Turns out the four little plates are listed on replacements.com for $5.99 a piece.
Happy Valentine's Day.