Oddments

In search of story


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Disconnections: October 1.18

As you know, dear reader, I am in the process of down-sizing. And process it is. I still have things in a storage unit, and I’m here to tell you that “out of sight, out of mind” does not apply: those things jabber at me all the time, yelling across town “We’re still here, you know!”

Sorting through life’s accumulation requires thinking, contemplating, reflecting, and — the biggest obstacle of all — remembering. One cannot just pick up a box and heave it into the garbage — it might have an old birthday card in it! And heaven forbid I throw out a Tiny Tears dress I’d intended to keep forever!

For me, what greases this slow-grinding process is anger. When I get angry, I can see so clearly what I don’t need! I can see how junk is weighing me down, and out with it!

The last few weeks have brought — for me — the climax of a long wind-up of anger and grief and resentment and depression and disbelief and despair and frustration and disgust, as I try to understand what has made children and women such disposable commodities. My struggles culminated in a free-for-all of unloading. And thus did I fill my car on the weekend for our community recycling day, and thus did I heap my own recycling bin to overflowing.

An inadequate catharsis, perhaps, but at least a constructive one. At the rate things are going, all my belongings will soon fit in a thimble.

 

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Disconnections: September 27.18

 A window with a view

coveted prize

a break in routine

rest for our eyes

a tree with some posies

quiets day’s din

but sometimes can startle

by looking back in.

We’ve looked back and forth

Crabapple and I

exchanging world views

in the year that’s gone by.

It’s given the kitchen

a leafy embrace

and made my new house

a cozier place.

Lichened old faithful

steadfast and seasoned

shading me from

a world all unreasoned.

There’ve been times in my life

I’ve known a kind tree

that seemed like kin

and companion to me.

Perhaps you, dear reader,

understand what I mean

and also have had

a friend that is green.

 

When I moved in here, almost a year ago, I knew that two trees would have to come down. This crabapple is one of them. Now the arrangements are made, and I can’t help the sadness. It’s been so pretty, wrapping around my little bay window. This place is still not home to me, and the crabapple has seemed to know that. I will miss it.

 

 


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Disconnections: September 10.18

Emmy wanted you to see

what a little girl she used to be,

how she would get all ice-cream-coned

before her skills were practice-honed.

Now that she’s a big girl of three,

she cones a lot more tidily,

avows, it should be here appended,

the ice cream facial is recommended.

 

 

My thanks to the unknown photographer

and to the photogenic Emmy.