Twigage. The ground is covered with twigage. With the strength of the wind today, we’re fortunate not to be wading through branchage. Twigage is hard enough for Rascal, whose vision isn’t what it used to be. I try to lead him a course free of impediment, but interesting scents entice him hither and yon, and he ends up trailing bustles of twigs.
He asked to cut our walk short today. He’s not up to the distances we used to cover together, so our walks aren’t as far-ranging. They take the same amount of time, and he’s still excited to set out. On the way home, though, he’s pretty much a pull toy. Our venerable dog is feeling his years, and his decline is accelerating. He has a hard time keeping his feet under him on slippery surfaces. He falls off furniture. Stairs are becoming a challenge. He spends more and more time curled up, sleeping. Eighteen is really old for dogs, even small ones.
The weather in southeast Michigan did a fake out this week: it delivered seventy degrees. You could tell it was warm out just by listening. People were outside doing things. Children were playing on the court, whooping it up, running around, and generally making happy noises. Grown-ups were tackling yardwork. A friend cranked up his smoker and turned it loose on some salmon, followed by various cheeses.
When I did look outside, it was to see various neighbors demonstrating that they could, in fact, put their hands on a pair of shorts in March. Do you suppose they kept a pair out optimistically, hoping for a midwinter reprieve? Or did they burrow through packed-away stores of summer clothes because, yes, one warm day was worth the effort?
We’re back to normal now. It snowed last night, and the wind is edging the outdoor furniture around the deck. Folks aren’t wearing shorts today, and it’s started to rain.
I felt quite pleased with myself last Saturday, when I remembered how to dress for rain, as we haven’t needed raingear for months. Hoods over hats, high-tech mittens, and long underwear, yes. Raingear, no. Rascal and I left for our walk, he in his penguin sweater and I in my raincoat, and sure enough it started to rain. Hard. We turned back.
By the time we got home, we were really glad to be there. The dog stayed pretty dry in his sweater, but I was wet to the thigh. So much for dressing for the weather, I thought as I slid off my rainboots and hung up my umbrella. Wait. I’d been carrying an umbrella? Yup. Too bad umbrellas don’t keep you dry unless you actually deploy them. It seems I remembered how to dress for spring weather, just not how to behave in it. I got a good laugh out of that and tossed my pants in the dryer.
People at the Thrift Shop yesterday were stocking up on winter clothes. The shop is getting ready for changeover. Changeover happens twice a year, when we empty the sales floor of merchandise and start fresh. In this case, we’re purging fall and winter items to make way for spring and summer.
First we have a half-price sale for a week. Then we move to bag sales. Individual items may still be purchased for half price, or as many items as the customer finds and can fit in a large grocery bag are available for the price of the bag. The price of the bag goes down as the days go by. The shop is very busy during the bag sale, and when the sale is over, the store is pretty much empty.
Yesterday was the second-to-last day, and shoppers were still finding bagfuls of good stuff. We clerks helped them fold it and roll it and pack it in bags. It was great fun for all concerned. During the bag sale, customers get their bags at the checkout counter and then stop back by the counter before they leave. There’s no protocol that says they have to. It’s just that contact with staff is part of the Thrift Shop experience. The adventure seems incomplete without it.
Many shoppers, laden with purchases and on their way out, mentioned they’d be back on Monday. That’s when the shop will reopen stocked with spring and summer offerings. Lighter fabrics, brighter colors. Sun hats, sandals, and short-sleeved shirts. And, for those of us who failed to dig them out of storage on Tuesday, there will be shorts. Because, all evidence to the contrary, spring is on the way. There will be a line out the door.
13 March 2026