This morning was warm enough for bare feet on the deck. Our snow is almost gone and the temperatures are in the 60s, so unusual this time of year. But the temperature is supposed to drop again this weekend, and I'm sure we'll see more snow. At least I'll know, when the flakes are falling, that it won't last long.
I'm in love with my new strawberry pajamas. My mom found them for me on Monday, when we spent the day together in our favorite thrift stores.
I would like to be a thrifty person, but in many ways I'm not. I love pretty things and usually collect more than I need. But I'm trying to improve myself - though I must admit that much of that improvement has come from necessity as Aaron and I work to pay off my student loans and save for a home and a family.
I'm much more conservative with money now, and mindful of what I spend it on. But when I walk into a thrift store, I feel no restrictions - only a great sense of choice. I can easily afford the quality items I'm drawn to, which would far exceed my budget if new. And I find pretty things that show signs of use and love, and that seem to tell a story of their own.
Certainly, I have to sort through a lot of cheap plastic knick-knacks and stained clothing, but I treat every visit like a treasure hunt, and spend hours happily searching for the gems.
Like strawberry pajamas. Lambswool sweaters. Vintage dresses made out of silk. And for Aaron's soon-to-be one-year-old cousins, a UK edition of Winnie-the-Pooh.