Findings

 

In the months leading up to show season, I am a machine.  My torch hardly has time to cool off before I fire it up again.  It's a mad rush, a fast dance and a whole lot of propane and oxygen.

This month alone, I've ordered and received several packages.  Pieces and parts, beading wire to string on, all manner of sterling silver findings, business cards, and a $600 piece of equipment that produces oxygen so I don't have to tank it.  My old one is giving me signals that she's tired and she probably won't last much longer.  And just like you and me, my torch cannot live without oxygen.  Tracking says the new one will be delivered this afternoon.  

I won't be there to greet her though.  

I'm headed to the big woods to take care of my Mama this weekend and since I can't make beads there, I always take plenty of them to string.  There's little else to do there, so I find I'm very productive and Mama loves to sit with me and watch me in action.

Basically, I have to take my entire beading station with me and it takes a while to pack. Luckily I started on Wednesday afternoon and noticed I was missing 100 sterling silver clasps and 10 feet of sterling chain that had been delivered the week before.  

I searched for hours.

It HAD to be somewhere.

Hours.

When I should have been sleeping, I was searching still.

That night, I drempt my son bought me tickets to a P!nk concert.  In my dream I lost those too so I spent the whole night I was asleep, looking for that damn ticket.  I woke up exhausted and down in the dumps.

The dump.

That's where my package was.  It had to have been mistakenly thrown in the trash days ago.  I was sure of it.

Unless...

Long before daylight,  I donned some rubber gloves, turned on the flood lights and picked through my 96 gallon trash barrel.

Nothing of value.  Just lots of Ew.  I dug through the upper portion of the same size recycle bin until I had to give up and get ready for my "real job".

When I arrived at the office, I duplicated the lost order, knowing it wouldn't be delivered for three or four days.  I'd have to string each piece, leaving the ends unfinished until the new shipment arrived. 

I felt lost that day, just like all those clasps and that chain.

I promised myself I'd finish looking in the recycle bin when I got home.

That afternoon, I did.

And there near the bottom was a sealed, small flat rate USPS box full of happiness and joy.

This wasn't the first time I've gone digging through my trash.  And since my lost findings were found in the recycle bin, I'm going to dig up an old Facebook post from a couple of years ago and recycle that too in a few days.

Meanwhile, those barrels I searched through hours ago now wait at the end of my driveway.

Trash man comes tomorrow.

Sorry Mr. Waste Pro man.  

No silver for you.