My Bi-Weekly Cincinnati Outing: Report #5
Titles are so limiting, aren't they?

Experience collection

This month is a little tight because of paying off the car last week. And then running into someone with it this week. There wasn't much damage but there is a comprehensive deductible, which makes things tighter still. 

I never was in an accident before. So that's an experience to have collected. But I have avoided looking at the monetary spreadsheet to see how things will stand and intend to continue avoiding it for a couple more days. In the meantime, a certain degree of discipline is certainly required, so there's no date with myself today. I have plenty of other stuff to do, anyway. It's warm out! I get to...rake and clean out of doors...

But this was just another in a definite series of events which has me concerned about how my life is organized, mainly the things I own in it. There isn't excess lying about, unless you think a lot of books (few of which are not on shelves or in boxes) are excess, in which case I have no words for you, but there are several drawers of things and a closet with some things and a storage room with several boxes of things. If something were to happen to me and people had to sort through it all, I think it would be, well, probably sort of hilarious in a melancholy way, as it's somewhat serendipitous but not disgusting, yet still. Somewhat of a chore. 

I quite like most of what I own, so it isn't a question of throwing out a lot of leftover bits of string and etc. It's just all fairly miscellaneous, and I need to put order to it. And yes, get rid of some of it, which is something I try to do annually, but intend to do with extra fervor this year. 

Last night after reorganizing Important Papers, I entertained myself by pulling out a few things from drawers and snapping bad photos of them to share with you. I hope you are entertained, as well, because I'm going to start doing this from time to time, as a sort of digital Moleskine.

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Stamps were 39 cents in 2006 and early 2007. Inside this envelope was a blank note card. Well, it seems like a silly thing to waste, so I've inserted the 2002 Simple Minds/INXS concert ticket to send to my youngest daughter. We attended it for free when she was only 11. Made our way down to the stage, where Jim Kerr touched her hand. She can keep the ticket or not as she chooses, but I'm sure she'll enjoy seeing it. 

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I organized my summer scarves a few days ago, and hung up the winter ones. About half of these are Vera, from some time in the 60s. They'd be worth a few dollars if someone wished them to be. And I'll probably buy one or two more this year. 

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I just really liked the pictures in here! But now I've extracted them and added them to a small collection of "scrapbook" type things, and I'll either do something with them soon or just look at them now and then, and the rest of the book can go in the recycling bin.

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One thing that might be a little weird is how there is only one photo of any family members hanging around here. The rest are on the computer, or in boxes. I just, you know, prefer hanging other things. Art, for example. But my bathroom is kind of Hollywood, so these were right for it. Joel McCrea is water-stained and needs updating, though. Ronald Colman could use a better frame, but whatever. The other stars are hanging in black frames and are in good shape. I like to think Robert Montgomery and Joan Crawford would get a kick out of hanging over someone's toilet. 

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I can't tell you what I was thinking when I framed these magazine cut-outs a couple years ago. They could stand an update, as well. Maybe bits of Van Gogh...

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This collection exemplifies the organization problem I do actually have. And the Dachau photo was stuck to the one below here, which is both interesting and slightly splendid, but also ridiculous, and why I have to do better. 

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Grandma Kelly, aged 58.

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Starting when I was a little girl, and over all the years I can remember, Grandma told me I'd have her bedroom set someday, and her jewelry when she died. When she died, there was no good jewelry left, only a few cheap "costume" pieces, and because of people and circumstances, I was unable to take her bedroom furniture. I...kind of resent the furniture thing slightly, but not the jewelry. I'm sad to not have it because I remember how we enjoyed looking it over together. What I hope is that she sold it out of reluctant need, as people often do, and not that someone just took it before I could. I think it is probably so; health problems ate into her finances until she was left with little but basic personal possessions and a secretive cat. 

So that's that. It's more difficult to think about how I looked forward for nearly 30 years to that furniture (later on, Grandma and I talked about how it could be fixed up a bit for my daughter to have,) only to be told by other people, "Oh, well, too bad, we decided you should not let it matter to you." People have done that to me officially too often at this point. 

Anyway. I have this box. I have a peculiar memory of her dog Nicole's ashes being in it, but probably I have that mixed up with another container. When I got the box, it had plastic beads in it, her charm bracelet and birthstone ring, and a couple other little things. Now it is a bewildering mixture I cannot at all explain, but I had to share it before fixing that. 

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That's a photo of me in my parents' bedroom when I was about two. And those are Grandma's white beads...

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There's the charm bracelet, a few odd things of my own, and...a chili pepper from the community garden where in 2010 this Korean man filled two plots with nothing but pepper plants and then never harvested them so I took one. Also, that pin of a woman in a hat came from a mall kiosk my friend Lisa worked at in the early 90s. I never wore it because after she gave it to me, I learned she was having an affair with the manager, and it kind of squicked me out. I would describe this in more detail but it now occurs to me the tale belongs in one of my stories, instead. 

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This is from 1973, the summer after 2nd grade, when I was 8. I read 100 books that summer and got 5 free ones to keep, in exchange. And then when I was 15, I taught myself proper handwriting. 

Is that some kind of spoiler? Oh, well. You can't get nearly as much from it as you probably think you can. And this is who I am now. 

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This is the Mont Blanc pen I found in the parking lot of the Stop n' Shop in Lakewood, New Jersey, in 2006. It ran out of ink last night and I need a new cartridge. Also, it is probably a knock-off (did you know there are pen knock-offs?) but whatever. 

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This book just sort of floats around and can be seen in various spots throughout the house. 

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I mean, no one actually reads it, of course. Have you ever seen one? It's kind of like the Book of Mormon in nutball terms, but far more "intellectual."

My great-grandma's maiden name was Pike. It isn't at all an uncommon name, but we're probably related because the Pikes all converge together not very far back on this crowded tree. That tickles me. 

 

 

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