Jim donated a book; he's read it.This is how I always wanted life to be.
I left the shop to walk to the post office. I had to get rid of a monkey on my back and commit to a decision I made quickly but that I knew was right. I'm not trying to be mysterious, the details are boring and tedious to explain and I am trying to get to the point more. Everyone has mail like the mail I sent. It was a good thing.
Feeling lighter and happier after the post office I decided to stop at the antique store to inquire about their framing services. It's been on my mind to do, but this is when I decided to do it. I opened the door to a bucket in front of me on the stairs and water dripping into it from the ceiling. We've had lots of snow. And beyond the dripping, two older woman kneeling on the floor, bent over, focused on a task. The closer woman looks up at me with a cigarette in her mouth, "I'm not smoking. It's not lit" she says. I say something like, "yeah, whatever, I don't care" and start to walk up the steps and into the store. As I pass the woman she asks, "Wait, why don't you care about the cigarette?" I answer something like "You must be a smoker and it looks like you are enjoying the anticipation of the cigarette you're about to smoke" She starts talking about rights and where's it gonna go, small things that limit our freedom and people mindlessly jumping on board because cigarettes are bad and what's this country going to be like in 20 years. I sit down in the chair next to the women and take off my gloves. We talk about cigarette prices, airlines harassing a woman with too many cartons of cigarettes from North Carolina where they are cheaper, bus fumes, Jim's smoking, diminishing freedoms and pleasures.
The women on the floor are untangling a big clump of jewelry as we chat. I explain I stopped in to ask about framing. The other women on the floor is the framer. The smoking owner explains how good she is and affordable, compared to Michael's, even with a coupon. The framer has framed all the art in the shop; I have noticed it and liked it and say so. I explain I want someone to have an opinion and help me find the frame that will enhance my Hank Williams woodcut stamped print. We discuss options. I was feeling very happy and confident that this framer would know the right frame for Hank. I get up to ready to leave when this happens.
The framer says "ah, look, I just got this ring out of the tangle." The smoking owner responds, "nice, let's see it, it's so tiny, this isn't going to fit anyone." The framer agrees, "it is tiny, maybe it's a child's ring". I say, "let me see it, my fingers are pretty thin, I bet it will fit." The framer doubtfully hands me the ring. I slide it on my pinky, perfect fit. The two women look at each other and say, "That's it. The ring is yours. You can have it." I'm saying, "nah, that's ok, I didn't mean for you to give it to me, are you sure?" They are and I can tell and I thank them for the gift.
They explain the smoking owner only works one day a week. The previous week the smoking owner and the framer were helping a women looking at old coins. They ask her what year she married and they gave her a coin from that year. She also asked if they were sure and they were and she took the coin. The two women reminisced about how much they laughed and how good they felt after giving her the coin. They decided then that once a week, when they work together, they will give something to someone. They tried to decide how they would know, and then agreed and believed an opportunity would present itself. They wanted to do it because it made them so happy the first time. On this day, it was a slow day. There's been a lot of snow - the bucket on the stairs. Hardly anyone walked through the doors the whole day. They were beginning to think they wouldn't have an opportunity to give something to someone. Then I walked in. And sat down. And the ring fit. I'm going to go clean it with toothpaste now like the framer suggested. She hates the liquid jewelry cleaners, they work too fast.
(my new ring is in the pic)
