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Yesterday was quite warm, and failed to be proceeded by shrieking alerts of high pressure troughs and heat warnings. The 91° high reported by Moffett tied the 1999 record high.
I went off to help take down and clean up the Harvest Festival fundraiser. I bought a few things: a fortnight lily, a small ice chest, some fabric napkins, and some gift wrap bits. I paid the full price for the lily, but did the end of day $2 for a rummage bag for the rest.
I was bright red as i helped with the clean up, and feeling decidedly not able to keep up. I seem to have lost any heat tolerance. I'll assume that was it and not that my general health has declined since last year.
As i was leaving i saw a department store shopping bag in the road. Grumble, i thought, imagining someone driving off with their purchases on the roof of their car. So i stopped to get it out of the road and was quite surprised: Nieman-Marcus bag, RECEIPTS, soft felt bags containing something else... The receipts detailed shopping from that day: A $1000 dollar purse, a $300 purse, and miscellaneous jewelry from a different store for another couple hundred dollars. I figured that Nieman-Marcus could track down the purchaser, so i drove home with it, wondering how on EARTH it could have gotten into Midtown Palo Alto. Was it stolen?
The Midtown resident called me that evening. Her friend, someone who had flown in from Australia for a brief visit, had purchased the bags and had somehow lost the Nieman-Marcus -- and a Macy's bag -- out on the street near her friends house. *puzzlement*
I'm happy to say someone who can afford $1300 in handbags can make a nice donation to the fundraiser as a thank you.
Personally, the contrast between working the rummage sale, packing the remainders up to go off to the ecumenical hunger service (which will allow folks to take whatever they need) and looking at a $1000 Prada purse was a bit harsh on my system. The silver luxury SUV, the casual outfit the woman was wearing, all stirred up in me a disgust at conspicuous consumption. Whatever, whatever, whatever, i find myself thinking, not able to speculate on the mechanics of how the bag came to be lying in the middle of the street, and simply happy for the donation to the Harvest festival for my troubles.
I went off to help take down and clean up the Harvest Festival fundraiser. I bought a few things: a fortnight lily, a small ice chest, some fabric napkins, and some gift wrap bits. I paid the full price for the lily, but did the end of day $2 for a rummage bag for the rest.
I was bright red as i helped with the clean up, and feeling decidedly not able to keep up. I seem to have lost any heat tolerance. I'll assume that was it and not that my general health has declined since last year.
As i was leaving i saw a department store shopping bag in the road. Grumble, i thought, imagining someone driving off with their purchases on the roof of their car. So i stopped to get it out of the road and was quite surprised: Nieman-Marcus bag, RECEIPTS, soft felt bags containing something else... The receipts detailed shopping from that day: A $1000 dollar purse, a $300 purse, and miscellaneous jewelry from a different store for another couple hundred dollars. I figured that Nieman-Marcus could track down the purchaser, so i drove home with it, wondering how on EARTH it could have gotten into Midtown Palo Alto. Was it stolen?
The Midtown resident called me that evening. Her friend, someone who had flown in from Australia for a brief visit, had purchased the bags and had somehow lost the Nieman-Marcus -- and a Macy's bag -- out on the street near her friends house. *puzzlement*
I'm happy to say someone who can afford $1300 in handbags can make a nice donation to the fundraiser as a thank you.
Personally, the contrast between working the rummage sale, packing the remainders up to go off to the ecumenical hunger service (which will allow folks to take whatever they need) and looking at a $1000 Prada purse was a bit harsh on my system. The silver luxury SUV, the casual outfit the woman was wearing, all stirred up in me a disgust at conspicuous consumption. Whatever, whatever, whatever, i find myself thinking, not able to speculate on the mechanics of how the bag came to be lying in the middle of the street, and simply happy for the donation to the Harvest festival for my troubles.
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