I’m working on my holiday cards this week and last night I thought it would be fun – because I don’t already spend enough time on them – to put a rubber stamp on the back of the envelopes. Sort of a throw-back to 1980s embellishing. I went to the basement and rummaged through my rubber stamp collection when suddenly, before I found it, I thought of this stamp.
This stamp and the acquiring of it was my first introduction to money management. In my memory, I was really young, but the date on the stamp says 1986, which means I was ten years old. We were touring house guests around Quincy Market in Boston when I saw the Inka Dinka Do kiosk and became completely fixated on this stamp.
I wanted that stamp SO BADLY. I asked Mom or Dad if I could have it and they said that I could have it, but it would cost me the equivalent of three or four weeks of allowance. I remember agonizing over it. Was that a sacrifice I was willing to make? Was this rubber stamp worth it? I still remember the uneasy feeling of committing to the decision to buy it. Would I regret it? I don’t recall if I did or not.
I’ve been dealing currently with the adult version of this and in this instance I also decided it was worth the investment. Since I moved into my home I have not been able to use my fireplace. It’s located in a strange place; when you open my front door, it is about fifteen feet straight in front of you. There is not enough room to place a loveseat or couch in front of it, and it would look weird if I did. Early on, Mom and Dad pointed out that moving the front door was the answer, along with some other modifications to the front porch, but it wasn’t pressing enough to consider.
Fixing my chimney and fireplace is still a luxury. It’s a frivolous fix really. Unless of course the chimney is in such bad shape it could crumble and fall on someone. I don’t know that this is the case, but every person (I had three masons come look) said it needed to be rebuilt. That it was crumbling.
With the coming of a long winter during which no socializing will be happening in my home, I wanted to have another spot to sit. I love my firepit, and I think a working fireplace would be just as relaxing and meditative for me. I have a cushy chair I can drag over to be in front of it to read, do some needling felting or whatever.
So now I am in the office in my home and there are workers on my roof and the dog is losing her mind.
THERE ARE PEOPLE ON THE ROOF!
WE’RE BEING INVADED!
WHY ARE YOU NOT CONCERNED ABOUT THIS?!
Pacing pacing pacing. Poor girl.
But soon she’ll have a fireplace to fall asleep in front of. And that will be worth it.