Work is crazy and quietly stressful. With everything in the news being about finances in the toilet, it’s a wonder the entire mortgage banking sector hasn’t committed suicide. Everyone secretly wears a question mark above their heads, not really knowing what to think or if to hope. The happy business faces become a mixed message of the wonder beneath. I get up and go to work because they haven’t told me not to come back yet. Last night I went to the bar to be entertained and float my week down a river of beer. The mission was accomplished, I had fun and got that nice level of chemically numb. Today has consisted of little more than sleep on the couch. It’s been one of those days that my body wins out over my mind in the battle of what it most important, to rest and recharge my spirit.
Trash or Treasure
Image By RnBoW
This week I was talking with a friend about collecting & how we should both have something like the Sgt. Pepper’s drum head that sold at auction for one million dollars. She replied that all of her “…things are just ephemera and really junk, junk, junk and garbage, garbage, garbage!” Yes, boys and girls, she really used the word ephemera! We use our proper, nerdy English in all the right ways during a casual conversation without being ridiculed or given the “Huh?” look.
For educational purposes the definition according to Webster is as follows: 1. Anything short-lived or ephemeral. 2. items designed to be useful or important for only a short time, esp. pamphlets, notices, tickets, etc. Also, for the record, if something is really bad or good she states it in triplicate. This is part of what makes her one of my most favorite and eccentric conversational friends!
Anyway, I went on to reply that sort of thing is more appealing to me sometimes than the more expensive items. They are the things lots of people would never give a second glance or might only catch the eye of those interested in vintage items. An old handmade apron, stockings still in the drug store package, a manual for grandma’s 1951 blender. They hold nostalgia and history for those who stop to really look.
I have a treasure box of just such things, my Gram’s sewing kit. I don’t know when she began to put all these things in the faux alligator cosmetic case. It is filled with a hodgepodge of what seems to be years of snaps, buttons, threads, spools & needles of all kinds. There are travel sewing kits from hotels all over Oklahoma, iron on patches for mending, lacy hem facing in five different colors. When I need to darn a sock or sew on a button it only takes five minutes but I end up sitting with the case in my lap looking at all the things inside for another thirty after the chore is done.
It is a tiny capsule of housewifery from a time which no longer exists. These things were never meant to be anything but used and tossed aside. Who dictates the shelf life of our day to day? Someday my ephemera may only be junk, junk, junk but today it makes me feel rich, rich, rich.
State Radio-Keepsake
Run Dry
Image By RnBoW
Sometimes I think the well has run dry for writing.
Other days I know my muse is alive and well in the garden.
Then there are times she only sees with a shuttered eye.
And even when she doesn't find a way to express it, she is thinking.
Today I remind myself that it is all fluid & to go with the flow!
It is very satisfying to see the changes over the last 12 months. 
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