Who Wants to Be WOMAN SHOPS GLOBE?

Me! Me! Me!

As a former step-grandma once asked, while riding an escalator in a huge shopping mall, "why do we have to want?"

I suppose it keeps us humans moving forward.

Right now I'm moving forward through my zip code's Comcast cable listings to find the Sundance Channel. I'm up to channel 500 and ain't found nuthin' yet! I want to watch MAN SHOPS GLOBE.

... here, it's channel 505. Which is easy to remember because one HBO channel here is 550. I miss having under 100 channels. Things were easier to find.

So back to Grandma Louise's question. Why would I want to be WOMAN SHOPS GLOBE? Isn't there enough available here? Actually right now I am tentatively planning a whirlwind 24-48 hour trip before December 31 to rack up miles to maintain elite flying status, and the trip would include some fabric shopping in a very grand bazaar. A place I've wanted to visit for so long.

Why do I have to want to go there?

While we're wanting, actually, we can overlook what we have. I have already been a WOMAN SHOPS GLOBE several times and am grateful for the amazing experiences that I never expected to have ... the aisles of the treasure-filled Chatuchak Market in Bangkok ... gorgeous vegetables, some I didn't recognize but sure tasted good, at the Saturday market in Greve-in-Chianti in Tuscany ... all the stimulating colors and fabric textures in Nalli sari shop in Chennai, India ...

Yeah, I am lucky and blessed and have lived a bit of being a woman shopping the globe. But still, I always want more. Always want more. It's not about the stuff. I actually don't buy much. It's about the sights, sounds, smells, walking in the midst of foreign languages, the challenge of figuring how to communicate and act where things are so different. I am more alive in these places.

When I buy, I buy to remember. I look about me now and see the fabrics that remind of these adventures ... the snippet of fabric covering a journal with writings about stories a driver in Cambodia told us about the Khmer Rouge, the silk throw from a nice shopkeeper in Kerala who discussed spices with us, the curtains made with fabric from ... um, actually, Arlington Heights, Illinois. But sometimes traveling 10 miles down a road around here is an adventure too!

It's important to open eyes to all adventures around us. And even if I never had the opportunity to get another stamp in my passport again, it's important to realize that sometimes, we really may have been that which we still seek.

Things I Covet Right Now

Well I have been irresponsible. But what did I say yesterday -- it's an obsession. What would an obsession be without some irresponsibility thrown in. It's after midnight. And yet, I have found online a few things that have been stuck in my mind for awhile:

It'll Cost Nothing to Dream & Everything Not To -- Saw it in Z Gallerie at the mall. Perfect for our sunroom wall! As it has only one solid wall (the rest, windows) and it is completely undecorated. It is begging for something inspiring on summer days spent out there:

Search "vintage test tube rack" on eBay to see another coveted item. I am watching several and just may bid on one like this on eBay:

Why??? Because on most of my trips, I've collected dirt.

Bear with me here. There is a connection. I have dirt of all colors -- sage green and grainy from the Continental Divide in New Mexico and deep red and sandy from the Turqoise Trail in New Mexico. I scooped dirt at the base of a grapevine at the Cennatoio winery in Tuscany as a remembrance of one of my favorite chianti classicos and vin santos. I took sand from the beach in Chennai, India. Who knows the source of that sand as it was collected after The Tsunami. It has joined a bottle of sand from a less exotic place, Daytona Beach in Florida. I scraped dirt from a well-trodden spot for picture-taking outside Angkor Wat in Cambodia, near the moat. Sometimes when traveling, I forget about my dirt-collecting habit. I forget to pack something to keep the dirt. This happened at Angkor Wat. How can I visit there, a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and not come back with physical evidence? I felt panic rise and was ready to just dump sand in a pocket of my shorts and worry about it later. Then, I turn around, and there on the ground before me is a plastic film cannister. Right there. It was like someone put it there for me just before I turned around. Maybe someone did. In these digital days, how often do you find film cannisters anymore? So I scraped the dry dirt nearby, too trodden with tourists to have any sacred Angkor remnants. But, dusk was falling and we couldn't go back into the temple. I'm not sure I should have taken dirt from within there anyway.

So why am I talking dirt? The dirt is in a cabinet in a hodge-podge of containers, some the original makeshift containers I used on vacation. I want to display the dirt in the test tubes. With vintage-style labels. Surely there are appropriate label supplies in the scrapbook paper collection I'm building at a ridiculously and dangerously fast pace. I always envisioned the dirt in a Dean & Deluca style test tube spice rack and it would make an interesting contrast:

But now I'm seeing something wood and vintage as more appropriate for my current style. Can't wait to acquire just the right test tube set and get started! Whenever the idea finally happens, after over a decade of planning it, it must be placed far far away from the kitchen for obvious reasons!

The final coveted thing that COULD and SHOULD be near the kitchen is this wall hung wine bottle opener, seen at NapaStyle catalog:

I almost hit the "buy" trigger numerous times. But couldn't bring myself to pay the price. A few months ago, we were walking through the village of Panzano in Tuscany, through an outdoor market. An antiques vendor had nearly this exact wall-mounted bottle opener for 35 Euro. I wanted wanted wanted it. Hubby, not so much. We left it to instead enjoy one of the best 2.5-hour lunches ever under the spreading branches of a fig tree, overlooking the Tuscan countryside. During that time, someone else took my wall-mounted bottle opener home. How could they?!? The rest of our vacation was spent inquiring about wall-mounted bottle openers in various establishments. Nothing. No more. I know I can always get it at NapaStyle. But it could have been had for 35 Euro. So, I hold out, but for what ...