News Trend Pennies From Heaven|Actual

Every time it rains, it rains

Pennies from heaven

Don't you know each cloud contains

Pennies from heaven

My drama began just a few hours before we were due to leave town for a two-week road trip.

Scrolling around the internet at 2 a.M, too antsy and keyed up to sleep, I fell in love.

Madly

Deeply

Passionately in love.

With this.

No, not the wooden dresser.

Or the brick wall.

Or the collection of vases.

Adorable as all those things were, it was the tall, dark and handsome teak container on the far right that totally made my heart sing.

I know.

It's a wooden wastebasket, for heaven's sake. Makes a cute and inexpensive planter but perhaps not necessarily worthy of a full-scale obsession.

But my heart was set and my brain, having dealt with these matters before, pragmatically turned to the issue of how to win one for myself.

The blogger handily mentioned that she bought hers at Bed, Bath & Beyond. My heart beat stronger - there's a store nearby, not too far off my beaten path.

But let's be reasonable, my brain countered. The store is most certainly closed at this moment, and won't be open until long after we roll out of town at six a.m.

I had neglected to build a last-minute shopping trip into the road-trip agenda.

Well. Other options?

All I could imagine was begging my eldest daughter, who was not joining our cross-country caravan, to run over to the store and snatch one up for me.

But let's be honest, I told myself, that store is a pain in the neck to get in and out of. I can barely motivate myself to deal with the traffic drama over there; how could I possibly convince my daughter to waste an easy half-hour of her life sitting in traffic in order to fetch me, of all forsaken things, a wastebasket?

I mean, it's the cutest wastebasket ever, and I'd vow to love with with all my heart. But I doubt my daughter would be particularly impressed.

It seemed certain that my wooden wastebasket and I were simply not meant to be.

Sigh

Fast forward. Six a.m. came and went; we spent the next twelve hours careening across the landscape, traveling from Washington to Oregon and east into Idaho. On and off throughout the day, the wooden wastebasket would flicker back into my mind and I tried, regretfully, to push my forbidden love away.

Double sigh

Still reeling with obsession, by late afternoon, I found myself at a Boise-area Target where we had stopped for a few groceries and a box of Band-Aids. Ranger and I strolled and sniffed our way around the parking lot while the rest of the family shopped, my mind still running circles around my dilemma.

When suddenly, I lifted my head to draw a fresh breath.

The clouds parted,

the heavens streamed with light,

and an angel chorus rang out in my ears.

For there, next to the Target, literally right smack dab in front of me, was a Bed, Bath & Beyond store.

Long story short, I bought my beloved wastebasket, gave it a big fat kiss, then stashed it in the back corner of the trunk where it lived for the next two weeks until we got back home.

Now housing a cactus with funky little arms, this handsome guy lives in my bedroom, and every time I glance over to his corner, I am reminded that sometimes, pennies really do fall from heaven.