I wondered if Friday the 13th was going to live up to its reputation of being unlucky when I went to a barn sale this morning and found only a dish full of keys. The keys were OK, but I was hoping for more. I wasn't expecting more, but I was hoping.
On my way home, I was overcome by an urge to bake. Specifically, to bake raspberry streusel muffins. This required a detour to the grocery store. Oh, happy day, there was a moving sale set up directly across the parking lot from the grocery store.
I deliberated over buying a shipping box filled with vintage Christmas ornaments, which was marked $25. I was *this close* to buying it. It's hard to leave ornaments behind. But once I looked through the box, I realized there weren't really enough great ornaments to justify the price. Close, but not quite.
I saw an individual box of ornaments that wasn't marked. "That one?" said the woman having the sale. "A quarter."
After the sale, I walked across the street to my original destination, the grocery store, where half-pints of raspberries were selling for more than I had spent for everything at the sale, so I passed on them.
I came home feeling virtuous and thrifty, and less convinced that Friday the 13th brings bad luck.