Posted tagged ‘stuff’

“A box without hinges, key or lid, yet golden treasures inside is hid.”

February 25, 2018

All I have to rely on is my memory of the sun. It was here for a short time yesterday then the clouds took over the sky. It is raining now. I can hear it falling on the roof and that was the first sound I heard when I woke up. It will be in the mid-40’s today and will probably stay rainy. I have a couple of errands including the dump. This is the second time in a row it has rained on dump day. I’d wait until a better day, but the dump will close today and won’t open again until Thursday.

I have a pile of boxes ready for the dump recycle bin. Most of them are small. They have been coming all week as I have ordered all sorts of stuff from all sorts of places. Some stuff is for Easter while other stuff is for Christmas and one is for me, a new shirt bought at an end to winter sale.

I remember when boxes were as much fun as any toy. Big boxes from appliances became forts or hideouts. We’d bring pillows, a flashlight and a few provisions inside and stay in our fort all afternoon. We’d make a window with a three quarter cut on the side. It was the perfect spot from which to keep watch. Sometimes I’d even decorate and use crayons to make curtains. For some reason they were always red.

Shoe boxes were the best of all. They held treasures and were hidden away, usually under the bed. I remember one of mine held those two Scotties, the black and the white ones, which were magnets. I used to put the dogs’ noses together so they’d repel each other. Shells gathered on a summer afternoon at the beach were in the box and so was a starfish and smooth flat stones. Marbles sometimes made it. My favorites were the clear ones with colored pieces in the middle which always sort of looked like parts of a feather. Birthday cards, pins and CrackerJack’s prizes were also in the box. Most times stuff was added and seldom removed. Often, I’d pull the box out from under the bed then sit on the bed and lovingly take my treasures out of the box one by one. I always thought them treasures of great measure.

“Soup is cozy.”

October 24, 2017

Last night I just couldn’t fall asleep. I tried to watch television, but that didn’t work. On Netflix I saw the start of several movies but couldn’t get interested in any of them. I then watched most of my DVR’d programs and got the number winnowed to two, both Dirk Gently’s. To watch that program I need a different mood. At 3:00 I turned off the light and tried to sleep. At 3:30 I turned the light back on. Finally, at 4:30 or so I fell asleep. Television is definitely a wasteland late at night but not enough to lull me to sleep.

Today is dark and windy, but surprisingly warm. It will rain later tonight. We could get inches of rain. My mother would call it a deluge.

Unlike Mother Hubbard, my cupboard is full. Peapod came yesterday.

My coffee maker loses water all over the counter. My washing machine won’t spin. I had to put towels on the line in the cellar. They were heavy with water. I hand wrung them, but they were still soaked. The other clothes went into the dryer. I hate when stuff starts to fall apart. I have ordered another coffee pot and will call an appliance man with hopes the washer can be fixed. Both are essential.

We live in the toss it and buy another age. Stuff is not build to last anymore. It is often cheaper to replace than repair.

My mother always made pea soup after we’d had a bone- in ham for dinner. The soup was thick and green. It was my father’s favorite, but because I liked it too, my mother would save some in jars and freeze it for my next visit. I reciprocated and made chicken soup. I always brought my mother some. She loved my chicken soup.

My mother used to come down to visit often. We shopped, went out to dinner and sometimes out to lunch as well. At night we’d play Big Boggle, her favorite game. We played countless times. She used to fill her trunk with shopping bags. The joke was she’d only bring in a couple when my father was home. He always remarked about little she’d bought. When he went to work, she’d empty the rest of her trunk.

It has started to rain. I heard it dripping from the eaves onto the deck. The wind is  stronger, and the biggest branches on the oak trees are swaying. I was going out as I do have one errand, but now I’m staying home, cozy and dry.