I recently went to Lowe’s. Lowe’s is what we refer to as a “big box” store. I might be tempted to label it as a “too big” box store. It was the first time I had ventured into a big box store since before the pandemic. I had a very specific reason for going to Lowe’s: I was in search of some white ceramic tiles that I wanted to use as a surface for painting with alcohol inks.
The good news is that on the website I could search for those tiles and the website told me the precise aisle and the bin location of the tiles I wanted. The website was almost right. At least it got me in the general direction.
It was a bit overwhelming being in this gigantic store. The pandemic has made me a fan of small and cozy. My husband had suggested that I go to the much smaller Ace Hardware nearer where we live, but they did not have the tiles I wanted. So off to Lowe’s I went.
I found the tiles (which worked great, by the way); I also bought some picture hanging wire (much, much less expensive than ordering on Amazon) and looked for a few other items (some running pliers and a scoring tool to use with the mosaic work I have just begun) but those tools were way too specialized for the Lowe’s tools selection.
The most fun I had at Lowe’s was in the paint department. I love love love the paint chips. I love the way they are all lined up in gradations of colors and I can never resist going home with a few of those chips (which are one of the last great free items in the man-made world).
When we were moving into our apartment I spent hours (literally) looking at paint chips. I did this at the Sherwin-Williams store, not Lowe’s, as our painters were going to use Sherwin-Williams paint so I needed to be sure the color choices were correctly matched to the paint. My husband can attest to the number of times we went to Sherwin-Williams and the hours I spent looking, pondering, selecting, discarding, rejecting until I had just the colors I wanted. I wanted a blue for our bedroom but it had to be just the right blue: not TOO blue, not too bright but not an icy cold blue. A peaceful blue. A blue that lulled you to sleep and also made you happy to wake up in the morning. Selecting paint colors is one of those tasks that I think should be done slowly and with purpose. I learned this the hard way.
When we lived in Memphis, I wanted to repaint our hallway. It was a depressing brown and I want something brighter, cheerier. My mother had once painted her den a peachy orange color that always made me smile. For some reason, good painters were hard to find but finally, I found someone. He called me one evening to say he could paint the next day but I had to have the paint selected when he arrived. Painting one hallway was a small job so I knew he was fitting us in to his schedule. He was also a rather bossy man but I felt I needed to obey. So I rushed out to the paint store the morning before I was going out of town, found a color I thought would work (I think it was called “Salsa”) and called in the paint sample and its number before I left town for a few days.
While out of town I called my husband and when I asked how the painting was going he replied, “Oh, it’s done. It’s quite done.” Hmmmm. What does that mean. “Oh, you will see. I hope you like orange.”
When I walked in the house after returning from my trip it was almost like the entire house was illuminated with an orange tint. Oh my. Really? Surely this was not the color I selected. Oh, surely it was. I wanted to repaint. Not a chance, my husband said. We paid for this and we’re going to live with it. The hallway stayed that Salsa orange until we sold the house (yes, they repainted it immediately). The lesson I learned is to never pick your paint colors when you are in a hurry.
Back to Lowe’s. I lingered by the paint chips longer than I needed (we are not repainting anything at the moment) but I could not resist selecting a few chips thinking I might find a way to use them as part of a piece of artwork.
I had two other shopping errands to do before I headed home. Dollar Tree and Michael’s. I found silly putty at Dollar Tree (to use to cover up areas of the mosaic that I did not want to get grout on) but Michael’s was a bust in finding the special quick dry tacky glue I needed. Oh well.
I am not a shopper. My sister got all the loving-to-shop genes in our family. Even my brother got more than me. I am not a shopper and what I discovered from this adventure was that I really do not care for big box stores. Too big. Way too big.
I don’t mind Trader Joe’s or Fresh Market size stores, but please don’t make me go to Walmart or Sam’s Club. Even Ingles or Harris Teeter is bigger than I want to visit on most days. I only want a tiny size jar of mustard, not a jar to host a neighborhood barbecue. Just give me a choice of three types of crackers, not thirty choices. Now that our children are grown and have their own families, I find that even our grocery shopping is fairly minimal. The truth is that my husband is the grocery shopper; this started during the pandemic and we have continued it since. He has a list; he is fast; he is usually not distracted from his list (unless there is a sale on butter or cheese).
I am a wandering shopper. Perhaps that is why it tires me out and I vow to never shop again when I get back home. My problem is that I usually like to wander around and look at things—like paint chips. I did not need to go to the paint department that day when I went to Lowe’s but I did. Imagine what I might be able to create with those colored chips….
Maybe it is not the big box store that I do not like; maybe it is the fact that I cannot stop my wandering self from going off list. We don’t have a Costco or a Wegman’s here in Asheville but at times I find myself wishing we did. Why? So I could wander around once every two or three years and check out every aisle. You never know when they might put in a paint chip section.
And by the way, you don’t ever want to go with the wandering me to Ikea…
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Let’s you and I pack a lunch, wandering through ikea sitting on every chair until we find the perfect one upon which to rest, reenergizing our selves for more.
Jeanne has always loved paint chips and is a very good selector of paint colors except for that one choice in Memphis which we did get used to. The first time was a shock I will admit.