Finding Out

We have more snow in the forecast this week, on top of what we had last week, which was on top of what we had for two weeks straight, which was on top of ... argh!

Don't worry, I already had my winter breakdown.  Truth is, most days that skeety junk hits, I don't whine or rage - I just have myself a homegrown spa day.  Hippie Chick is a massage therapist (aromatherapy, crystals, the works) and I've learned much from my Obi-Wan daughter-in-law.  But last weekend, as the grief and exhaustion began to lift, I took one look at the salt scrub, and the razors, creams, and masques (my weapons of choice) and realized there was only one cure for what ailed me:  I needed a play date, with me.

I shook my fist at the slate-gray sky, wrapped myself in fleece and leather, and headed out for a movie, a bookstore, and a hunt.

The movie (The Lightning Thief) was fabulously fun.  The bookstore (Border's this time) had all kinds of great books to peruse, even buy (with my 30% off coupon - new addition, thanks to the movie, is a YA entitled The Shifter).  And, of course, there was a thrift store ...

The clerks greeted me like a long-lost sister, which dazed me a bit.  How long had it been?  Weeks, I thought, not days - I only recognized one or two pieces in the cases, and the fair abundance proved that any old thaw is a good excuse for a house-cleaning-slash-tax-break in this town.  But oddly, I didn't linger.  I didn't have to.  I saw my Precious almost immediately.

Isn't it gorgeous?  I don't know why I love pins (I rarely wear them), but I really don't understand why I adore service-organizational-school-corporate pins.  I guess, maybe, because I love prizes, and, since I've moved 21 times in my life (and my Dad never kept a job more than 3 years) I also love evidence of stability, of constancy.

My obsession is recent but it's deep - I didn't even wait for 25% off day but bought this beauty on the spot.

I like the older ones best.  The designs (frequently in colorful enamel over metal), the occasional inscription (touching or cryptic), the sheer weight of these things hearkens back to an era when everyone seemed to stick with things (jobs, friends, spouses) for a lot longer than we do ... and were rewarded for it.

This one's probably from the last of that era, somewhere between 1945 and 1963.  Why that range?  First of all, nowadays, if they're even awarded, these pins tend toward silver, gold plate, or (more often) various plain old metals.  Back in the day, there were silver, gold plate, and metal, of course, but various karats of gold were just as common.  (This one is about 2 grams of white and yellow 14K gold, and, yes, those are three diamonds, all tested and verified.)  Second, the back of it gave me clues - the actual pin part is a jolt between the gold and the steel of the shaft (earlier ones have more finesse, more polish, are even gold themselves) ... and, of course, the "cTo" above the karat mark means O.C. Tanner Co (which started business near the end of World War II).  Third, while the design doesn't exactly scream "atomic era," it does remind me of a pin my godfather gave me for my seventh birthday (that I lost when I got in a fight on the playground).  Lastly, because I can't find that logo anywhere.  (And my endless appreciation if anyone could clue me in!)

Yes, I spent more than I usually do ($35) but thanks to the snow, my allowance hasn't seen any action in nearly a month.  And, truthfully, I couldn't resist the opportunity to not just own tangible proof that some things last on purpose, but to do what I love almost as much as I do hunting something - finding out what it really is and where it came from.

Now that was a fun day.