We overslept. I blamed it on yet another time change, as we are now on Eastern Daylight Time, three hours later than the lake.
Banjo Man thought, since it was our anniversary and because we only had to drive 300 miles, that we should take it easy and stop at antique malls and a particular bluegrass music store in Columbus, Ohio.
So that’s what we did.
First stop: Centerville, Indiana, an 1850 town originally settled by Quakers.
We did not buy anything, thank goodness.
Then we drove north for four blocks to the antique mall.
This quilt made me sad. It was beautifully hand stitched and hand quilted. But it was deeply stained. I hesitated over this for quite a while. I even went back to it and thought about it before I left the store without buying it. I wanted to honor the woman who made it–and what a beautiful seamstress she was–and yet the price stopped me. I wish I’d been a little braver about the stains and brought it home with me.
If I lived in Centerville I would go back and buy it tomorrow.
I bought a square yellow print tablecloth for $8.00. And I found a set of car keys in the ladies bathroom, which should have made some shopper very happy.
Then we headed to Columbus, Ohio, to a bluegrass music store where Banjo Man tested several tenor banjos. He had a wonderful time but he didn’t buy one.
Three blocks down the street was a giant old house now serving as an antique “mall”.
It was gigantic. I lost Banjo Man immediately and soon found several piles of quilts up the back staircase on the second floor.
I bought another quilt, too (the prices were very low, which brought tears to my eyes, really), but I haven’t taken a picture of it yet. It’s all applique, with rose print flowers and green leaves. It looks shabby because the stems have come unstitched, but that is an easy fix. There are a few minor stains but nothing that either (a) won’t come out or (b) would be noticed.
Banjo Man tried to be excited for me, but I could tell he didn’t understand why we needed any more old quilts.
Because, Banjo Man, they are art.
And off to Wheeling we went, to a romantic 45th anniversary dinner at a sports bar.
And to a Hampton Inn with its own boot-cleaning stand outside the front door.