There are times in my life when I'm overtaken with the gripping urge to go out and buy something. Anything. A new dress, a new globe, thrifted chair, hair clip, pink coffee cup... anything. I don't know why this happens, but I often find myself having this internal conversation.
"Now Liz, get hold of yourself. Just because you have a credit card does not mean you need to go shopping. You do not NEED new chairs for the dining nook. Sure they'd be nice, and the ones across town were pretty spectacular, and they WERE only $75 for the pair, and... STOP IT! Don't even think about getting in the car. You do not need to go shopping!"
So when I'm struck with the restless, overwhelming urge to do some retail therapy, I start looking around the house. If I can distract myself with a project, paint an old lamp, rehang some artwork, it usually quells my obsession with prowling flea markets all day and spending a week's worth of grocery money.
And that's the situation I found myself in this week.
So instead of shopping, I decided to set the table for dinner. I found an old strip of burlap, used painters tape and a black magic marker to draw black trim on each side.
And instead of convincing myself I needed to run to Lowe's and buy a big planter full of baby hyacinths, I picked some weeds, I mean flowers, from the yard.