Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Erroneous Thinking: (Re)purposeful Living

Despite our nearly thirty-three years of marriage, my husband and I are not good for each other.  We don’t throw anything away.  I tend to re-purpose, but while waiting for functional re-purposing, the stuff has to go someplace.  That someplace is not good.  I do not open the cellar door.  Just imagining the piles of “we might use this someday” stuff, my breathing quickens and my body is stiff unable to move.

On optimistic days I ponder, If I sort through one box a day, by the year 2014 I will be nearly done, I think quietly enough so no one will hear me.  If someone hears me, then I will be committed.

This morning my husband retrieved a big floppy hat to protect me from the sun’s rays.  I vaguely remember owning the hat, yet I do not remember where I got it, a sure sign that I own too much. 

I dream of an empty room, just my own with a few pieces of art for color and pleasure, a  winged-back chair, a cot, a bookshelf lined with my favorites, and an easel with some art supplies neatly tucked away.  Stark, for the most part.  That is only a dream.

Now that brings me to the photo of the teacups.  I visited a sweet little Antique shop in Franklin near camp with my daughter.  The garden displayed the teacups, chipped but repurposed.  I don’t have any teacups.  Perhaps I will have to get some.

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