Somehow, the week passed until it, at last it is Saturday. During the summer, one day is much like another. They feel the same, with the exception of a Sunday -Sunday always feels like Sunday. Today feels like a Saturday.
I woke naturally, which is early, but I had no reason to make haste about anything. I had my coffee outside, in the midst of a cool and still morning. The birds must know it is the latter days of summer, for they are a quiet lot, as of lately. Now and then, I would hear a leaf fall from the old sycamore and at long last, the mockingbird sang . . . not with the exuberance he had in June- but he filled the air up for a while with a cheerful celebration, to herald the new day.
I spent some time collecting my thoughts and gathering the beauty, of the morning glory blooms. These days, I must muster fortitude, to live in the moment, for I feel like I am between two worlds, and I do not even know what lies beyond the shadow. Now truthfully, none of us know the fortune of our next day, but I have never been prone to dwell on that, as I do now. There is so much yet to be done -so I finally decided a course of action and went back in, mostly satisfied .
I put on a pot of soup to simmer as I went along. I can share some with Mama and Daddy – and clear out the refrigerator freezer, all at once. Then, I started packing. I decided books could be stored, though I left out about thirty, just in case, things continue at the steady “snails’ pace” thus far. These books will join the other boxes of books, already packed. Next I packed a box and labeled it “birds, rabbits and candlesticks”. Well, this is how it went for a while. I packed up Kyles’ green depression glass, collected for several decades and his Christmas ornaments, collected for just as long.
By noon, I had about ten boxes packed, and really had not even made a dent in the overall task. I am well aware, that theses boxes may sit a good while, but I can at least say, there is less than there was, to do. I can also say, I had under estimated the size of this job. I felt thankful, I had started.
Packing is hard on a sentimental heart. While cleaning out the china closet, I came across, Aunt Josies’ glass pickle dish. I am not partial to pickles, but that dish made me cry. Then there were the salt and pepper shakers, that Aunt Agnes brought back from Holland. That trip was the “talk of the town” as in those days, country folks did not travel, as people do now. I remember Grandma dropped the pepper shaker, and of course, it broke. I regret that I was annoyed, and the fine little crack, shamed me all over again, though I never even mentioned it, to anyone, except Mama – and so I cried about that. Brants’ little silver cup, Tres’s baby toy, which happened to be a little rabbit, pulling a cart . . all stung my eyes, til I just wanted to cry for a while. I consoled myself, that a little remembrance of those loved ones and those seasons were going with me and to take comfort in that . . .but I was so relieved to finish that china closet.
By mid afternoon, I wondered why, I had started this task with such hesitation. Clearly, even with my huge decluttering effort, packing up the rabbit patch would require a tremendous effort and a lot of time. I did decide to part with some old glass dishes, that were once used for baby and wedding showers. My dear friend, Janets’ voice rang in my ear, saying, to “let someone else know the joy of having them”,( if I did not need or love them). Somehow, I can let the dishes go, in light of that thought.
Janet and I have been friends for three decades, and I often go to her for sound advice. She can clear up a problem, I have mulled over for days, in a matter of minutes. Janet, never fails to put things in perspective and therefore is a great source of comfort. To have met her when I was young , has proven to be such a blessing, time and time again.
I did not intend to, but I packed all day. Now, I did not touch the kitchen nor our bedrooms. Those rooms will remain as they are, til further notice. There is at least two more boxes of books, that could be packed . . .I do hope the next rabbit patch has book shelves.