The snow is dazzling today, and full of footprints. Hardly any of our back yard is unmarked. The usual suspects—squirrels, rabbits, squirrels, other critters, and squirrels have been busy out there. A herd of sparrows sheltered for a time on our front porch, leaving a tracery of prints. When we were kids, we loved looking out to find pristine snow around the house and loved even more rushing out to mark it up. Fox and Geese, with its circle and spokes, was one of our favorite patterns to tromp into the snow, as well as a good way to stay warm.
The sidewalks hereabouts are mostly full of people footprints. Shoe manufacturers clearly put a lot of thought into the prints their shoes and boots will behind. Even on the heavily traveled walkways around the schools, the variety of tread patterns makes it easy to pick out which way individuals have walked. Or run. Some folks zoom around the neighborhood leaving widely spaced tracks. Elementary schoolers can leave meandering tracks; kids stop to examine whatever requires closer attention. Their younger brothers and sisters leave my favorite tracks, the itty-bitty ones. How can manufacturers even fit tread on those tiny boots?
Footprints are sometimes the only things left on the sidewalks. The snow and ice are gone, yet the footprints remain, trails of flat, bas-relief sculptures left by passersby. If you carried a spatula you didn’t mind scratching, you could have footprints over easy. Maybe the elementary-school kids will do that, and we’ll start seeing spatula prints in the snow.
All the snow we’ve had so far has been packing snow, and people have been making things with it. Householders on Lexington near Bluett have been especially creative. On one side of the front yard is a most unusual snowman. The bottom ball and the front of the middle ball are normal snowman snowballs. But the backside of the middle ball is the upper body of a Halloween skeleton. The upper ball has no snow at all; it’s just the skeleton’s head. Above the whole creature rises the skeleton’s left arm, clutching a snowball. On the other side of the yard is an extensive snow fort, staffed by a second skeleton clearly saying, Bring it!
Yesterday was a big day at the Thrift Shop. Our merchandisers keep track of the donations the community brings us and, periodically, save like items for a special event. Yesterday was an event featuring vintage and estate jewelry, accessories, furs, clothing, and housewares. The merchandisers have been preparing for this event for quite some time, making sure everything was in tiptop condition and attractively displayed.
The shop opens at 10:00 AM. The line of eager shoppers started forming outside the door beginning at 8:00 AM on that cold, cold winter morning. A line existed almost all day, as people waited for shoppers inside the store to filter back out. There are fire-marshal limits on the capacity of our shop, and we are careful to observe them.
Inside the shop, the hubbub was amazing. Fortunately, it was good-natured, people chatting back and forth and exclaiming over their finds.
“Look at this evening bag!” “I love fur!” “These shoes are perfect with this dress!” “A men’s Burberry overcoat!” “My niece will love this! I sent her a photograph, and she says it’s perfect for Christmas!” “My grandmother used to collect these!”
There was also a run on handkerchiefs. Someone donated a large quantity of vintage lady’s handkerchiefs to the store recently, and the merchandisers decided to put some out for the event, not really expecting them to sell. They had to restock the display over and over, as the hankies proved enormously popular.
Most of them were marked at fifty cents, though especially fancy ones cost more. One lady bought twenty-seven fifty-centers, and several of the higher-priced ones, including one exceptional offering marked at seven dollars.
Customers left with their arms laden, sometimes making two or three trips to the parking lot. A regular who uses a walker and rides the bus bought enough to fill the biggest bag we had. As long as the bag fit on the seat of the walker, she was happy. Shoppers were still checking out twenty minutes after the store closed, not because they’d been tardy making selections, but because there was such a line at the counter.
Items that pleased people decades ago still please people now. Thanks to our generous donors, loyal customers, and intrepid volunteers—especially the merchandisers—treasures found new homes yesterday, and stories were told of days gone by. Here’s to another kind of footprints. Long may they last.
5 December 2025
That sounds like a really joyful shopping experience for a lot of people.