This is not my usual musing. It is the story of my last night’s archeological dig in my den. Curiosity started the whole mess.

In my den I have a large furniture piece with a cushion for seating. Underneath the cushion is storage. I wanted to know what is there. I had to move all sorts of stuff to get at the storage. I found stacks of CD’s. I took a few. I also found 3 DVD’s, all the seasons of Clatterford, one of my favorite BBC series. My DVD player has bitten the dust, dead of old age, so I will have to use my outside DVD player to watch them.

That wasn’t the end. I saw a couple of boxes filled with unknowns. In order to get at the boxes I had to move pictures, baskets, a kite, an Elvis wig, a Jelly Belly machine and empty small bottles saved for a project. Inside a one box I found vintage Wilton cake toppers including hula dancers, palm trees, cowboys and soccer players. They are so wonderful I wanted to bake a cake. Another had photo Christmas cards, all black and white of people I don’t know. I have used them as Christmas decorations. I also found old cook books of recipes from movies. I found some tins. Inside one were old Christmas tags and cards. Now, keep in mind that in order to get to all these I had to move so much stuff it covered the furniture and floor. It was hot so I had to keep stopping for a cold drink and a bit of a rest. Finally I had finished exploring. I started putting everything back. I also ended up reorganizing so I could get at some of those tins again. I was exhausted.

When I was a kid, my closet floor was always covered with a pile, a layered pile. I had to organize it often so I’m thinking that was practice for last night. I have become adept at reorganizing a mess.

Today is a switch from spring to summer. I am taking down the storms from the doors and putting in the screens, more heavy labor. My poor sloth is screaming in protest.

The morning is hot, already 76°, but luckily there is a wind. The clouds are scattered. It will be a good day.

It is the summer solstice, the longest day in the year, the first real day of summer, but this is a flimflam, a deception. Starting tomorrow, the days get shorter. Sadly, even pessimistically, we get closer to fall every day.

Today is the 50th anniversary of the release of Jaws. I saw it on the first day. I stood in line for what seemed like hours at the movie theater. The only consolation to my waiting was the line behind was so long it disappeared around the corner. I’ll never forget the opening theme, the crescendo. I swear my heart started beating out of my chest with the same intensity. I’ll never forget that opening scene with the sound of the buoy, the view of the swimmer from below then the first tug then the back and forth and her screams. I swear I sat on the edge of my seat, my back stiff. After she was pulled under for the last time, the stillness of the ocean was almost just as frightening.

When I have my movies on the deck, my July 4th movie, alternates between Independence Day and, of course, Jaws. I decorate about the same every July 4th. For Independence Day, I have Stars and Stripes on placemats, napkins, bowls and serving dishes. For Jaws, I have wine glasses with sharks, glass sharks, on the bottoms. I have shark napkins and life preserver napkins. My centerpiece is driftwood, a small shark looking piece of wood surrounded by shells. Jaws music greets my guests. One of my friends hated that movie. She came reluctantly to see it, drawn by the friends and food. Whenever the shark was on the screen, she covered her eyes, but she still had to listen to the music. My friend did not swim in the ocean for years, not even by the shoreline.

Right now I am watching a shark movie, a sort of getting into the spirit. The movie is Santa Jaws. The festive killer shark is wearing a Santa hat on its fin. After all, the action takes place on Christmas Eve.

I have a to do list, a short one. I have an empty dance card. That’s it for the day, for the next few days.