Chapter 56
It was one of THOSE few and far between days when I had a choice of what to do. There WAS a list as long as Grannie’s leg—and she was a tall woman—of things that coulda been done! And a list longer’n that of things that really shoulda been done.
But I decided against all the necessary evils like dusting, vacuuming, or laundry. I pulled the old trunk out into the living room floor and dived into it like a hungry hound after a cold biscuit.
The trunk is always a joy to behold. It reminds me from one year to the next that although there are a few more pieces of clutter to sort, life and people stay about the same—give or take a few pounds.
It’s just like me—kinda round with a jumbled conglomeration inside!! There was all of Amy’s outgrown paraphernalia waiting for Ginny to decide to grow. ’Course none of it had been folded—after all, on the days I choose to clean closets, I certainly do NOT have time to FOLD the cast aways.
So here I was sortin’ through it all—Amy’s things in this pile, give aways in that pile—and right there was the familiar brown bag I’d almost forgotten about.
I poured out two years’ worth of antique letters (I KNOW they’re antique—they were written in the days of 8￠ airmail stamps) on the living room floor and commenced to read a few.
’Course Charles says NOW he never wrote them, but they still have his familiar handwriting even if he doesn’t use that flowery language anymore! !
Hiding in one corner of the trunk was a snapshot of our first apartment. Bare walls—who could afford anything to put on them at that stage of marriage—and those horrible blue floral drapes which reached out and grabbed eyeballs!!
A Gerber baby food jar (don’t know if it held green beans or blueberry buckle since the outside paper is long since gone) at the bottom of the trunk holds a few clippings from Charles’ very first beard!! And all the little clippings are BLACK—not gray!!
Three baggies hold three different baby outfits—the ones we brought each of the kids home from the hospital in!! Amazing how something little enough to fit in those teeny clothes could turn the world around so fast!
There’s a couple of my granny’s worn-out aprons I’ve never washed ’cause they smell just like her. And a few items from various school days—both mine and the kids. (Have you heard those famous words, “Hey, Wow, you mean there was schoolhouses back when you was a little girl, Mom!?!)
And last in the doin’s was a SMALL, white linen dress with white lace sleeves.
It MIGHT fit halfway around me NOW!!! The black suit that went with it is packed in the army footlocker which I locked and very conveniently lost the key!
! Black suits do not SHRINK like white linen does and I got rather tired of it STILL fitting the person who wore it on “I DO” day.
After several hours I had it all put back—NEATLY. All my life put into one ancient, roll-top steamer—wonder if it’s big enough to hold what’s in store for it!?!