February 11, 2016
I have had the courage to look at, in the old fashioned meaning of the word, the desk top, two square feet it is. My desk, and the desk drawers, here in the headquarters of the bnb, is an old fashioned, wooden, telephone company desk, a GIGANTIC, enormous thing. My motivation to clear up, was only because the computer had to repair itself. Somehow the latest upgrades affected it, it took minutes, a long while, these days, to fire itself up. While the tea steeped and thru no fault of my own I had, I found, accumulated, 435 rubber bands and 6 pen tops. Along with those items, I had I found containers of pens, one a fake plastic red weaved thing, filled to the brim with scissors, troll pencils and letter openers. (Still in use!) A second, also filled to the brim, a 7-up glass from the 70’s with long dead commemorative items, DISNEY DAFFY DUCK PENCIL, the scissors stolen from kindergarten I am sure. In all probability untouched since then, but moved with great diligence.
Behind them, a third (yes you read that right) dusty dry pens, an ordinary HB pencil its eraser gone, from use. Within the black plastic holder, a white plastic knife in case of needing to eat my peas with honey, and nail file, all very dusty from being unused. There are levels to all this. In the Frontage space, (yes a fourth) a squatter metal lime green in colour, was found to be full (quelles surprise) of articles such as lipstick, always got to look good while pounding away on the diatribe. Underneath the beatification items I finally found matches and some beeswax candles saved for a special occasion. When was that going to happen? I think they are from 1998. Stored in there too was a small package of Kleenex, a seed for planting from a long ago wedding and a two dollar bill. An actual paper bill with a very much younger queen on it. Underneath all that, and this is a small container, I assure you, were two tiny wooden shoes, that my father brought home from Holland in 1945. An ark-ecological, dig I tell you.
Beside all of that, I have stray pictures, moms family before my brother was born, tucked curling and covered in dust, beside the router. One of black and whites, is a picture of dad when he would have picked up those tiny wooden shoes, the other when he would have completely forgotten about them. Before and after as it were.
It all just snuck up on moi. And HOW did I think I was going to divest myself of this stuff. As much as my plans go, the plan is for the upcoming was summer to haul soil, note to self, need a truck and repopulate the lawn…. (Which is currently under two feet of snow. Back to normal winter we went.) During the summer, at top speed, I shove and stuff and store things, in a hurry to garden or guests. I think “I will get that done in the winter.” Well it is winter, and now have the occasion guest is slinking in and about. We are about to rove up a notch or two.
I come by this cowardice easily. My parents were great keeper of thing or two. I am coming to an age now where I understand things such as this, much better. What to do with all those remembrances, of people and things past. How do you throw “them” away ?. I know, they landed in my basement and are still there after my mother blasted off from the homestead.
I have to say in my defense, I am ruthless when I take paper out of the mail box It is swiftly put to death. The stuff lying about on the two feet of desk, as well as two containers of body lotion, in this computer age, a ton of paper, the promises of paperless society broken. Pretty or plain lying about still in its tablets, with exclamation pointed writing. MUST BE DONE. & SOON. Some how, I just don’t know what to do with the little gifts, of painted stones, with glued golly eyes, that underneath tell me someone loved me. Just what to do with hound dog licenses long expired, and previous dogs rubber balls. Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye. H. Jackson Brown, Jr. Moi