"their personalities took flight and they became themselves"

I. Watch for Falling Bricks

I went on a field trip with board member Pam yesterday to our store across the Mississippi. 
Pam and I are on the new Store Committee, with a goal of giving our two thrift stores a facelift, as Big Boss called it.
I had never been to the other store.

via GIPHY


The brick building itself is cool, from 1911, with original pressed tin ceilings (below). 
Spruced up, this place could be a gem, and in fact the surrounding area's houses & businesses are being gentrified, for better and/or worse.

But we're not sprucing up. 
Oh, no. The thrift store moved in in 1960 and hasn't refurbished since, inside or out.
A few weeks ago a chunk of brick fell off the front of the building and hit a passer by--luckily for her, it hit her shoulder and only bruised her, and luckily for the store, she was a longtime customer who didn't sue.

Now the Society has to spend a fortune on long-deferred repairs, which will prevent customer deaths but not otherwise improve the store's appeal. 

I keep saying this: 
I love & hate the laissez-faire/Quietist management of the thrift store(s).
On the one hand, it means they are a dump. (My store is slightly better, because the building is newer.) But the cool, old stuff has not been stripped, so their character remains.

It also means there's freedom to make all sorts of changes. You've gotta supply your own oomph, though, and making change in these circumstances can feel like moving wet snow.

Now Big Boss is stepping up, I am cautiously hopeful.
In a small way, the snowball has started to roll.
Compared to the other store's baffling books section, for instance, my books section is stellar. 
 (I wish I'd taken photos of that store's book category names, which are ... unique, and also not necessarily related to the actual books in the category.)

When I started as Book Custodian, I'd asked Big Boss if I should OK changes with him. 
He'd said, "No, just do it."

II. The New Girls

Dumpiness aside, the store was fun to rummage in. 
Look who I found impounded there!

Almost a year at my store, and I've seen not one Orphan Red come in.
You may recall I'd bought three new Reds off ebay last fall? Each was damaged in her own way: matted hair, dirty clothes, a dog bite on a leg....

I'd ended up feeling overwhelmed by personalities, however, and Marz took the three to her house, where they are learning acrobatics and mime.

I don't know that I'm up for more Reds living with me permanently, but I couldn't just leave the girls there. They said they were having fun with the other toys, but they wanted clothes. Also, they sparked instant joy in me.

I paid their release price (99 cents each), put them in my backpack's outer pocket, so they could see, and took them home.

SweePo, Red Hair Girl, and Penny Cooper welcomed them eagerly.
Penny Cooper gave them an elixir, first thing!

The new Orphan Reds say their names are Orange Colored Sky and Lulu LaFlame.
I'm like, "Girls! Those are stripper names!"
Who knows. 
Sometimes the Reds change their names later. And sometimes they don't. 
(Penny Cooper would never change her name! But SweePo went through several names before she told a total stranger at the Minnehaha Falls that her name was Sweet Potato.)

The News were tuckered out, so they were given the bed the original three outgrew and a soft, warm blanket. 
They stayed up late though, talking through the slats.

III. Rescue Reds

One of my favorite things in the world is the all-volunteer Wire Fox Terrier Rescue Midwest  group. They take in this breed and other terriers who come their way––some of the dogs shockingly damaged by cruel or careless humans.
(I know the group because bink & Maura have adopted three terriers from them.)

At first I was dubious. 
Why spend all this energy and money to rescue badly damaged dogs? Healthy dogs, sure, but why not just make the hard call and put the mangled ones down as gently as possible? 

In the years I've followed them, however, I've totally changed my mind.
It's not about the dogs.
Well, it is about the dogs, but more, the group's work caring for wounded creatures is a demonstration of people trying to clean up after the damage other people wreak on the vulnerable. 
It's often heartbreaking and enraging.

Even if one might disagree with using resources for dogs instead of, say, children, still, the group's work is like a neon sign declaring, PEOPLE CARE about little beings who are too small to protect themselves, 
. . . to protect themselves FROM US. 

I take heart from that.

In a way, the Reds are a little bit like that. 
I post their adventures on Facebook and here and there have gotten comments (or private messages) along those lines--that they give people a bit of heart in a difficult time. (And every time is difficult for someone.)
The Reds do that for me, that's for sure! (Of course, they are me, to a large extent. But also not.)

I posted the New Girls on FB last night.
A FB friend who takes an interest in the Reds asked if they are still "made"--apologizing for his assumption that they originally come from a factory.
(People are sometimes unsure where the illusion starts & stops with toys.)

I wrote back that yes, they were made in a factory in China in the 1990s.  "They started out as Madeline dolls," I wrote, "from the children's books. But somewhere along the line, their personalities took flight and they became themselves."
_________________

Anyway, my thought is, I will make clothes for Orange and Lulu, and then maybe see (on FB, etc.) if anyone wants to give them, as dog rescue says, a "forever home".
Meanwhile I am happy to be the foster home, forever.