I love charity stores.  I was out with my 83 year old Father and my 14 year old daughter on Saturday.  My elderly Dad has been dragged to many a place he would never have set foot in were it not for me, charity stores being one of them.  He, like many immigrants I’ve met, take great pride in being able to buy ‘new.’  I don’t know why?  From an environmental perspective, it discourages waste and is a form of recycling, keeping our landfill to a minimum.  Anything purchased in such a shop will also be helping the charity it represents.  My favourite reason by far is exemplified by something I saw on Saturday.  Near the counter my attention was drawn by a colourful picture, lightweight metal with four identical panels but for the colours, an Andy Warhol style image of Golda Meir with a clock face on it.  (Who you ask:  She was one of the founders of the State of Israel and their 4th Prime Minister.)  I called my Dad over to look at it, he partly horrified at the everything of it but secretly pleased that I knew who it was.  The woman behind the counter listening to us suddenly exclaimed, “That’s who it is!”  I had no particular use for a clock but I loved that it was there, sharing space with grandmother’s china, all manner of labour saving kitchen devices that must not have saved much labour, holiday souvenirs to remember fun times but are better forgotten, stacks of books with emphasis on the helping self variety (as helpful as the labour saving devices I suspect), everything from the elegant to the kitsch and the tat inbetween.  I love the journey back through the decades, the eccentric variety and it satisfies the hunter / gatherer in me as I search for bargains.  I bought this bottom table and the vase from a charity shop some months ago and could not resist.  Have a look at your local charity shop, you never know what you’ll find.