I’m gonna pop some tags…

(always check the men’s section at the senior center thrift store for great retro “old man” sweaters like the one I’m wearing here.  Also–a thrift store is a gallery walls best friend)

I grew up in what was then the outskirts of Mesa, which meant that for the majority of life’s activities we had to take a trip “into town”.

“Into town”, whether it be for doctor, dentist or grocery, always included a visit to the thrift stores.  Thus my love for the search of a “lucky find” (a term I borrowed from Wallace of “Wallace and Gromit” fame) was born.

I now live in what could be called the outskirts of the hub of the White Mountains, meaning that I must travel for stores and the like in neighboring Show Low or Pinetop/Lakeside.  And just as in my childhood, these trips always include the search for a “lucky find”.

Today Easton and I took one such trip to visit her orthodontist.  Then, with our breakfast of Super Nachos in hand (trips into town also always mean food), We waited patiently for my particular favorite type of thrift store to open.  The beloved Senior Center.

Senior Centers are the best for “lucky finds” of the vintage variety and I am a little bit into (read obsessed) with the vintage variety.

After scoring these salt and pepper shakers

(because I remember them from my grandparents’ house and if I remember them from my grandparents’ house then Rick will surely remember them from his grandparents’ house which will cause us to gaze at them together as we wax nostalgic and tell stories of our youth and smile.  It’s so good and so worth a dollar)  I turned my attention to the sale they were having on all things winter.

“We’re having trouble moving our winter merchandise this year.”  The nice thrift store lady told us.

“Oh we’ll be happy to help you with that.”  I told her.  “Even without snow we’re still cold.”

“Are you from the valley?”  She asked.

“Well, I did grow up in Mesa but we’ve been here almost 12 years.”  I said.

“And you still haven’t acclimated?”  She seemed surprised.

I never will nice thrift store lady.  I never, never will. (see post here)

It wasn’t until we returned home that I made the connection (even though I’ve been doing this forever) that this–my love for thrift stores–is not simply about the pursuit of a “lucky find”.  It’s a tradition carried forth from my childhood.  It’s a mother and daughter walking side by side in an exciting journey of discovery and creativity.  It’s pure, perfect–nostalgic salt and pepper shaker–joy.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.