The picture above has nothing at all to do with the title of this post, but I just had to share this small slice of everyday life. On Monday evening, Ed was washing dishes when he stabbed his thumb on the broken handle of a ceramic cup and got a nasty, deep gash. While I can be calm in a true emergency, I get queasy when it comes to gaping wounds, so I called upon my friend Wyndie to super-glue the edges of the gash together. We were in her kitchen (down the street from our house) when I just had to snap a shot of Wyndie, her husband, and one of their sons with their heads bent over Ed's thumb!
I've been neglecting my blog lately, mainly due to a head cold and cough that lingered for 3 weeks and sapped my energy. I made it to work each day, but after I got home there wasn't much left in me for anything but the most basic tasks. Now that I'm all better, I have a lot of catching up to do!
Just a few blocks from our house, there used to be a thrift shop called the Dog House. Owned by the local Humane Society, it was quite a busy little place located in an old green house that was probably built in the 1960s or thereabouts, judging by the architectural style. When we shopped there, I used to like to imagine what it was like once upon a time, when it was a family home. I wish I had a picture of it from its heyday.
I'm not really one to frequent thrift shops. With my obsessive compulsive disorder, I can rarely bring myself to wear clothes that have been worn by others or use any goods that have belonged to strangers. Luckily, my children have no problem with hand-me-downs, so there have been occasions in which we've searched the thrift stores, and the Dog House was always our first and favorite stop. It was there that we obtained Sarah's gorgeous, black-beaded prom dress for only $20.
Our last visit to the Dog House was on Tuesday, November 23rd. It was just 6 days before we left to drive Jacob to the Mission Training Center in Provo, Utah, and we were looking for a final few items like black socks and dark slacks appropriate for a brand new missionary.
At noon the following day, a fire started in the old green house and quickly roared out of control. Firefighters battled the flames for hours before they finally put it out. The good news is that everyone except the pet canary got out in time, including two dogs and two cats. The bad news is, the entire building was gutted by the blaze.
The Dog House as it appears today.
It was surreal to drive past the blackened shell of the Dog House on my way home from work on the afternoon of the fire, knowing we had been shopping there less than 24 hours earlier. Smoke was still pouring out of the building and floating across the highway. It made me very sad.
For the Humane Society, who relied on the funds generated by the thrift shop, it was a heavy blow. For us, it felt like the end of an era for our family.