This week marks the longest time Eric been away from home. I’m about ready for a visit. He doesn’t call as often. Don says it’s because he has a life. He talks to his sister. But for the chatterbox she is…for some reason she keeps her brother’s secrets.
When Chelsey and I go on our shopping conquests—We do pretty well at taking turns, Her clothes, my clothes, stuff for the house, a quilt shop, and a scrapbooking store. While she tackles the scrapbooking shop I entertain myself pretty good. I usually walk out with 5 or 6 sheets of plaid paper—what else would a quilter purchase. I’ve also purchased rubber stamps—stuff to use with my Sunday school kids.
Eric is my kid that always ask those profound questions, “So, you’re into this…Why?” He’s made me rationalize various treasures in my life---keys, quilts, dishes, barns, rusty stuff (he calls it).
Last time we hit Chelsey’s Scrapbook Shop I purchased the Rocking Chair Stamp.
It’s not something that I can exactly use with My SS kids. I must have picked it up 3 or 4 times before I committed. They even had a stamp that was a rocking chair with a quilt draped over it, but it was the lone rocking chair that kept talking to me. I have two rocking chairs in my house. Don bought both of them for me when I was pregnant with Eric. We lived in a cracker box house and his logic was we needed one upstairs and downstairs. Even though we have changed houses and we’ve changed furniture a few times the one constant has been those rocking chairs. One of the chairs has a built in blue cushion that now goes with a green living room. I put a blue and green pillow on it and call it “coordinated”. The front porch has 2 white rocking chairs—why two? There’s something incredibly lonely about one rocking chair alone on a porch.
I look at the stamp and laugh—why did I purchase it? Maybe it’s that in my eyes a Rocking Chair stands the test of time, never going out of style. They cradle newborn babies, hold preschoolers with the flu, and rock teenagers with the loss of first loves. That chair will hopefully comfort through life’s changes and totter an old woman through quilt stitches for a long time….
I stole some of Chelsey’s scrapbook paper and made cards to write my Mom. I can’t wait till we hit the store again---- I remember a wheelbarrow stamp calling my name....