Intro: a semi-daily, indulgent blog about one woman's war on too much stuff (including pounds but not yet shame), one teeny-tiny battle at a time - by ridding herself of three things a day.
I would say I have an empty nest but I think the entire point of this blog makes that kind of ironic. An argument could be made that I try to fill the emotional holes in my life with things, but let me protest too much: that sounds way, way, waaaaay too much like I'm a hoarder. I am not a hoarder. I don't even joke about that (exceptions made for my daughter's bedroom) because I watch A&E and I have real mixed feelings about even watching a show about the mentally ill as a means of entertainment. Which, really? It is. And I watch it. And I know I'm creepy. If it's not entertainment, do we need more than one episode to get the point across?
Besides, I fill the emotional holes in my life with FOOD, and that is a different, thought perhaps related matter.
The point is, I miss my kids. But during today's "toss," I stumbled across something that made me feel better.
1. Measuring cups. My daughter never took much of an interest in cooking when she lived at home, whereas I'm a competent home cook and I enjoy it. She has an attitude pretty much akin to learning Spanish: she has nothing against it; in fact, sees the value in it; it's there if she wants to learn it; it's not going anywhere; and in the meantime, someone else can explain it to her.
But on occasion when she did dip a toe into culinary waters, I noticed she always used my pewter measuring cups (I already know you can only use them for dry goods or they're poisonous. Got it). They are pretty. Handcrafted. And now they are hers.
Her delight when I dropped them off today was great. It made me happy. I know she is cooking more often these days and they will help her and remind her of how Just What a Wonderful Mother she has. I kid. Or not. I was inspired by SparkFriend Success_in_2013. Why acquire all this STUFF that eventually either becomes garbage, or worse, a burden for my children to go through after I'm gone? The measuring cups are pretty to me, but they are precious to my daughter - the way my third generation cast-iron skillet is to me - and maybe to her. We'll have to see what my son does in the kitchen.
Result? See above. We'll see what happens to the lobster measuring spoons.
2. Cardboard gift boxes for CDs. I think these are from around 2008. When was the last time you burned a gift CD for someone?
3. A puzzle. Little white-water rafters you put in a base. The object is to get all the little guys facing the same way.
See? Each little guy is equipped with a puzzle piece as he prepares to shoot the rapids. Sad. Hardly adequate gear.
a. I was charmed by this gift (I am really trying to get over getting rid of gifts without seeming ungrateful).
b. I was flattered by the bestower's faith in me regarding my ability to solve the puzzle.
c. I worked on this damned puzzle for hours. For DAYS.
d. I didn't get it. I turned to my kids. They got bored after about 20 minutes.
e. There. I said it. Never solved it. I never solved a Rubik's cube, either. I don't do Sudoku, I am a barely adequate card player, though I am a MASTER at Plants vs. Zombies. I do love the zombies.
Result? Donation box. Somewhere, someone will finish this quest. I checked the pieces in my choking tube (you don't have a choking tube? seriously? maybe you know it as an ANTI-choking tube? It passes muster) before putting it in the box.
No Keeper of the Day.
“Chaos was the law of nature; Order was the dream of man.”
― Henry Adams, The Education of Henry Adams