Sure, it’s Sunday, but here’s a little behind-the-scenes story about my expedition to find matching clothespins for the Pinterest Challenge light fixture we’re building. Other possible titles I considered included: “The Petersik Clothespin Tour of Richmond,” “Wow, I’m a really patient husband,” and “Sorry environment, we vow to plant three trees to make up for all that driving.”
- “The Petersik Clothespin Tour of Richmond”
- “Wow, I’m a really patient husband.”
- “Sorry environment, we vow to plant three trees to make up for all that driving”
Here’s the situation. When we started the clothespin light fixture (first mentioned here), we bought four bags of clothespins at Ben Franklin to get going. We knew we’d need more but didn’t want to overbuy until we settled on a pattern and knew how many we’d actually use. At the time, Ben Franklin only had four bags in stock.
Once we started attaching clothespins, it became obvious we needed a lot more. So when Clara went down for a nap, Sherry sent me out on a “quick” errand to pick up about eight more packs. What neither of us anticipated was that this quick trip would turn into nearly three hours and cover about 54 miles around the Richmond suburbs.
Because we’d already started using the four Ben Franklin packs, I needed the exact same size clothespins so everything would match. That ruled out Target and the dollar store, which had pins that were either too large or too small. I went first to the same Ben Franklin as before (Marker “B” on my mental map). No luck — they hadn’t been restocked.
I only knew of two other Ben Franklins nearby, so I swung by a Bed Bath & Beyond and a Michael’s in the same shopping center (Marker C). Bed Bath & Beyond didn’t carry clothespins, and Michael’s had another brand, but their sizes were large, small, and mini — not the medium size we needed to fit our wire light frame and match the original pins.
Sidenote: Yes, my wife has me listed as “Husband – John” in her phone. Apparently she’s prepared for any John-related confusion.
Realizing I needed to expand my search, I headed to the next Ben Franklin (Marker D). Jackpot — they had three packs of the medium size. But three more packs still wouldn’t get me to eight, so I decided to try JoAnn Fabrics (Marker E) and Hobby Lobby (Marker F), both farther out but big stores on a nearby highway. That choice was partly driven by the hope they’d have the right clothespins and partly by the lure of faster driving.
*If this sounds like a testosterone-fueled decision, I’ll confess: the possibility of finding clothespins at JoAnn or Hobby Lobby made me feel justified in taking the extra drive.
Sherry had called ahead and both stores claimed to have clothespins, but they didn’t confirm sizes. Unfortunately, both JoAnn and Hobby Lobby only had the large, small, and mini sizes — not the medium we needed. At least I found a Burger King between the two to refuel; after an hour-plus of hunting, I was getting weak. Still, I soldiered on to the last Ben Franklin (Marker G), where Sherry had also called but couldn’t get a clear confirmation on the exact size.
That last Ben Franklin saved the day — they had nine packs of the correct medium-sized clothespins. Had I gone there first (it’s only about eight miles from home), I would’ve found everything in one stop and avoided two hours of driving, cashier jokes about laundry, and a fast-food bellyache.
Oh well — hindsight is 20/20. Even after calling around and ruling out stores like Target, the dollar store, and Bed Bath & Beyond, it still became a fairly exhaustive tour of Richmond. The bright side: the chandelier is shaping up really well. Sherry and I have been testing different clothespin patterns and we can’t wait to finalize the design, hang it up, and post a photo-filled tutorial on Tuesday morning. We’re excited to see what others tackled if they joined the Pinterest Challenge too.
The only downside? We ended up with four extra unopened packs to return to Ben Franklin. I overestimated how many we needed — we really only needed four more packs, not the eight I brought home. As Homer Simpson might say: d’oh.