Hope at the Hospice

I love my local hospice shop!
It's only 5 minutes walk away and whenever I pop in I can guarantee I'll leave with a bargain, or at least some great homemade jam.
The Urlich Rd hospice is tucked in between a diary (which I'm sure is run by Koreans) and a newsagent.
It's a dear wee shop run by lovely ladies who make a mean plum jam and tomato relish.
The very same lovely ladies are not to be messed with though and very rarely can you beat them down on their pricing.
The hospice shops around the Waikato are known to do the odd silent auction. They clearly hide away any antiques, label clothing or the like just for such moments.
During silent auction weeks the lovely hospice ladies display the Royal Doulton, jade figurines, ye olde books, jewellery of value and other heirlooms that have accumulated over a period of time in the storerooms of the shop.
The idea is that you write a price down that you are prepared to pay for an item, pop it into a box inside the shop and at the end of the week the highest bid can purchase the treasure.
I must admit here and now that I have a small problem with op shopping, perhaps you could even call it an OCD - but I stand accused of compulsive op shop purchasing. I almost start having palpitations if I leave an op shop without buying SOMETHING, ANYTHING!
This week I have been catching the bus to Wintec, great time to practice a bit of Teeline, read about another treaty issue and generally listen to Hamilton High School girls gossip. The bus stop is located conveniently outside the hospice shop and it would be a crime to pass it by, you just never know what might be lurking in its depths.
I didn’t need to look far for there in the door way the mannequin greeted me dressed in one of those safari type dresses that are fairly fashionable these days. It didn’t take me long to undress the poor headless lass – who even had lacy knickers on – and slip into the dress myself. Great fit, purchased for $6.
Funnily enough the very next day I was visiting my niece and to my surprise she was wearing a very similar dress which she bought at Jay Jays for $35. What’s funny (or maybe sad) is that she is only 15. Does that make me mutton dressed as lamb or is she lamb dressed as mutton? I think I’ll leave such important moral dilemmas to the people who care to sort out.
I hope she still likes her dress, I’ll promise not to wear mine at the same time.