Confession Time

You really should thank Qandlequeen  at "A walk Through My Little World"  for rousing me from my zombie like state to post a few words today.  I hope she will not hate me for stealing her stuff.

http://dementiawoman.blogspot.com/2010/09/question-of-day-sept-39-2010.html

She asked, "What was the latest thing you fished out of your trash ?"
Below was my comment and I find the idea so intriguing that I will continue her challenge.  And do go visit her blog....she is great.

Confess if you dare.

 Comment left by yours truly:


OK......I'll tell you, but you must promise not to tell anyone.

After I brushed my teeth this AM I tossed the mostly used tube of toothpaste into the trash basket and then I was wrestled to the ground by my Depression Era mentality. It still had about a half dozen squeezes left in it and I hate waste, so........sigh.

The Inner Voice Says, "Shut Up and Just Listen"

"You cannot learn much of anything when you are doing all the talking."
                                                                                Lois Stearns Daily     


You lovely devoted followers have undoubtedly noticed that my blogging habits are a bit irregular and undependable.  Sorry about that.  When I started this  blog I was naively under the impression that I could sit down every day of the week and blab incessantly on any subject providing my audience, if not fascinating. at least readable fare without ever developing a cramp in my blabbing muscles.  WRONG.  I had completely forgotten an aspect of my being that I thought I had overcome but that occasionally pokes its ugly head out of the water and spits mud in my eye.  Sometimes I feel  that I have nothing worthwhile to say.  At those times I would rather listen than talk.  It is then that I wend my way through all of your lovely, profound, irreverent  blogs and am both inspired by your brilliances and soothed and reassured by your simplicities. 

 When I was a child I had absolutely no social skills. (can you believe it?)  Even worse, I was in no way cute or adorable in feature or form, an unlovely child, short, pudgy, clumsy,with no graceful ways and with a brow constantly furrowed with worries wondering what bolt of lightning was going to come out of left field and set my bloomers on fire next.  I was agonizingly,  painfully shy and so thin skinned that if a passing dog looked at me unkindly I would want to hide myself behind a tree and weep.  I had one or two neighborhood friends but we related almost accidentally and I still had not a clue about how to engage in the art of conversation.  Thank heaven there were games which required little conversing except for the times when bitter arguments broke out and everyone went home mad.

I got through my young years in the most blundering fashion, sort of staggering down the long hallway of life first bumping into the left hand wall and then crashing into and careening off the right one. It was a painful  sort of existence only lightened and cushioned  slightly by my luck in having an invisible asset.....a fairly extraordinary intelligence.  Once I learned to read my world changed and I had access to as many wonderful friends as I could gobble up from those amazing things called books, but sadly, these friends demanded no interaction on my part so I still did not have a clue about how to relate to real people.

In books, people always seemed to know exactly the right thing to say to each other......and, no matter how I examined the pages and the words, I never could figure out how they could all be so damned clever.   During rare moments when I would fantasize and  timidly interject myself into the plot, just like in life, I could never think of anything worth saying and got myself out of there as quickly as possible, mind blank, trembling and panting with terror.

My education, both High School and College did little to improve my skills.  There were a few times when I could exchange words with someone comfortably on a subject on which I was informed  and passionate about, but generally I found myself half listening to what was  being said while desperately trying to come up with something clever or funny to interject and my success rate ranged from awful to abysmal......consequently I was more or less tolerated because I was a "good kid" or because I was the only one who had a car but not highly rated in the "Life of the  Party" department.  I suffered terrible pangs of insecurity and felt an abject failure as a social being.  And so it went until my 25th year when  I entered into a project that would change my life in innumerable ways......I went into partnership with a ceramist, my new friend Peggy, and joined her in her studio, thereby exposing myself to a completely new (for me) segment of the population.....the Wild Artist Colony of  Los Angeles.

I cannot explain exactly how these new people differed from those I had known up to this point in my life but different they were and, since we always had a succession of drops-ins and kibbitzers, I was even more at a loss about how to shine or even  be accepted as a member of the clan than ever.  I felt like I knew nothing, had nothing worth uttering to contribute and the only way I could prevent exposing my ignorance, lack of sophistication, deficiency in judgment, dearth of talent and general worthlessness as human  being would be to simply shut up and say nothing..........Which I put into practice immediately if not sooner.  My only option was to listen ardently and carefully  to what everyone else said......... to possibly learn something and meanwhile, if I kept my mouth shut, except to ask a pertinent question occasionally, perhaps I could keep anyone from discovering what a schlubb I was. 

The results of my desperate plan were amazing and totally unexpected.  It seemed particularly true when single individuals popped in for a chat session.........it seemed they did not mind at all being forced to talk about themselves for hours as long as I kept asking sensitive questions.  I needed to know NOTHING to participate in these chats....I did not need to utter clever phrases.......I did not even have to be funny.......just attentive.  And,to my amazement, a line formed around the  block.

I had found the Sorcerer's Stone.....Though I did not think I was really dead, this was obviously  heaven.  I had discovered a way to fool the public into the illusion  that I was wise without having any wisdom whatsoever,  without any risk of making a fool of myself and without having to expend  any effort since I found that I really WAS interested in what the person was saying.  Because, by some further miracle of miracles, no matter what else they said, they all revealed to me that they had the same agonies, the same or similar demons and the same kinds of insanities that I suffered from. Up to this point in my life it had appeared to me that the rest of the world was completely normal and I was the only one who  was lost and crazy.   Not only did I feel no longer an outcast but I felt that I had finally found a place where I belonged..........I could hide among the crazy, brilliant and unconventional Artists forever and not have to wonder for a moment what I should say next.   "Nothing" was not only acceptable but seemed to be much preferable to "yatayataya"............who knew?

Sadly, I found that this profound truth  does not work when you are confronted with someone who is so insecure and fearful of their image (as I was)  that they cannot risk revealing a morsel of what they have been struggling for years to keep stuffed  in the back of the cupboard.  In such cases it is necessary to do a quick reversal and be the one who confesses and shares bravely.  Two people trying to employ the same strategy makes for unspeakable discomfort not to mention unbearable boredom.  Oy, does it ever.

Unfortunately, over the years I have gotten quite a bit more blabby but I have never forgotten the Main Mantra.....When in Doubt -  Shut Up!

camels I have known

These, of course are Turkish camels.......I have also known some Egyptian camels, but can't find their photos right  now.    I am assuming that camel # 3 in the bottom row is wearing a muzzle like device to keep her/him from biting the patrons.   Of course, I could be wrong....that may simply be the latest chic fashion in camel wear.

No more tonite.  Happy dreams everyone.                                                                             

More Turkey Anyone?

I think I downloaded a few more shots of Turkey yesterday....if I can find them I will post them.    The top shot is of some amazing    hot spring baths which have formed natural pools among the limestone stalagmites (or is it stalactities?)   When we visited the weather was very dry so the pools were scant but the terrain is really            amazing.   We met this  incredibly beautiful calico cat among the ruins of Finiki I believe.   And the squirrel  I met somewhere along the way  even though I did not    have a peanut in any pocket.       Dammit, I had one more set of pics but I cannot locate them right now so I will just send these off and follow up later.      No, that is a lie.....I have located them, but somehow they got zipped and      blogger does not seem to have the technique to deal with that so I will have to download them again being sure that no zippers are anywhere around.  Sob.                                                                                                               

                                                                          

A Stroll Down Memory Lane in Pictures

I am so preoccupied with trying to rid myself of various kinds of debris deposited upon me during my worst years of hoarding and pack-ratting that I cannot concentrate on creating blogs with words so I will resort to pictures again.

I just downloaded an odd selection of pics from some of my trips, Turkey, Lake Como, Italy, Paris.  Let's see if I can locate them in my files and offer you a nosh.  To see them better just click on the photos.

At the left is the courtyard of the Louvre with the original building in the rear and I.M.Pei's glass pyramid in the foreground.  I am still not sure I really like the pyramid next to the palace, but then nobody cares what I think.

Top right shows a ritual I always go through when I am in France ( and elsewhere, if I can do it).  Once located in my hotel room I go out and wander the streets till I find a Flower Shop, buy myself a bouquet to brighten my room.  This was a very modest but comfy little room 2 blocks from Notre Dame with a lovely view outside beyond that gorgeous wrought iron window grille railing.  I couldn't have been happier at the Ritz.  In fact, at their prices I would not have been happy there at all.  I hate ostentation and overspending.

Bottom left.....couldn't resist one of the tyical black cats of Paris in a Paris doorway.

Bottom right......I am not absolutely sure this belongs in my pics of Paris....for all I know it might have been Greece or Turkey, but I fell in love with this Lion wherever the hell he is.  Please don't sue.

These 3 shots were taken in one of the most glorious places in the world, Bellagio, Italy on  Lake Como.

There is Lois, sleeves rolled up, getting ready to tuck into a meal.....from the angle of the sun I would guess breakfast or maybe lunch on the balcony of our hotel overlooking the lake.  The photo on the right is from the same vantage point showing part of the view from the cafe balcony looking across the lake (navigable by frequent ferries which docked right next to our hotel.....sooooo convenient.)

Same cafe balcony.  Of course, I always manage to find some critters to feed and the wonderful water fowl on the lake did not disappoint.  Not a bad turnout for just some crumbs,.

These 3 pics were taken along the Turquoise Coast of Turkey.  This is another glorious part of the world.  I believe they were shot near the town of Pamukale.  The ruins on the right were fascinating.....amazingly well preserved.  As you can see they had been carved right into the cliff and represent a good part of a town.  Awesome. 

The falls were encountered on a lovely boat ride we took up the coast......I wish I would have been able to kayak around there like those lucky folks....well, maybe next time.

Ah, this is a sight that makes me faint with joy.....an assortment of Turkish homemade breads on the buffet.  The food on this trip was incredible.....I love Mediterranean/Middle Eastern cuisine and the meals were mind boggling and waistline destroying.


Well, that is enough for one offering.  I have made myself so hungry that I must rush off and stuff my face with something delectable.  I suggest you do the same.

Michael Moore on 9/11 and the Mosque

I am not sure that what I am about to do is legal or kosher but I don't much care.

I received the post below in an email this morning from Mr. Moore.  I once sent a worshiping fan letter  to his old email address and, though he did not answer me, he obviously saved my email address and I am SO glad
.
For my money he writes about the things I care about passionately better than almost anyone else and this is so beautifully done that I feel I must do my part to spread it around.

By the way, I am NOT asking that you send any contributions to anything (unless you really want to.....I did).

Just read and weep or smile or maybe a bit of both.
                                                                    
God Bless you, Michael Moore.   
                                                         *****************************

maillist@michaelmoore.com

If That 'Mosque' ISN'T Built, This Is No Longer America
OpenMike 9/11/10
Michael Moore's daily blog
I am opposed to the building of the "mosque" two blocks from Ground Zero.
I want it built on Ground Zero.
Why? Because I believe in an America that protects those who are the victims of hate and prejudice. I believe in an America that says you have the right to worship whatever God you have, wherever you want to worship. And I believe in an America that says to the world that we are a loving and generous people and if a bunch of murderers steal your religion from you and use it as their excuse to kill 3,000 souls, then I want to help you get your religion back. And I want to put it at the spot where it was stolen from you.
There's been so much that's been said about this manufactured controversy, I really don't want to waste any time on this day of remembrance talking about it. But I hate bigotry and I hate liars, and so in case you missed any of the truth that's been lost in this, let me point out a few facts:
1. I love the Burlington Coat Factory. I've gotten some great winter coats there at a very reasonable price. Muslims have been holding their daily prayers there since 2009. No one ever complained about that. This is not going to be a "mosque," it's going to be a community center. It will have the same prayer room in it that's already there. But to even have to assure people that "it's not going to be mosque" is so offensive, I now wish they would just build a 111-story mosque there. That would be better than the lame and disgusting way the developer has left Ground Zero an empty hole until recently. The remains of over 1,100 people still haven't been found. That site is a sacred graveyard, and to be building another monument to commerce on it is a sacrilege. Why wasn't the entire site turned into a memorial peace park? People died there, and many of their remains are still strewn about, all these years later.
2. Guess who has helped the Muslims organize their plans for this community center? The JEWISH COMMUNITY CENTER of Manhattan! Their rabbi has been advising them since the beginning. It's been a picture-perfect example of the kind of world we all want to live in. Peter Stuyvessant, New York's "founder," tried to expel the first Jews who arrived in Manhattan. Then the Dutch said, no, that's a bit much. So then Stuyvessant said ok, you can stay, but you cannot build a synagogue anywhere in Manhattan. Do your stupid Friday night thing at home. The first Jewish temple was not allowed to be built until 1730. Then there was a revolution, and the founding fathers said this country has to be secular -- no religious nuts or state religions. George Washington (inaugurated around the corner from Ground Zero) wanted to make a statement about this his very first year in office, and wrote this to American Jews:

"The citizens of the United States of America have a right to applaud themselves for having given to mankind examples of an enlarged and liberal policy -- a policy worthy of imitation. ...

"It is now no more that toleration is spoken of as if it were the indulgence of one class of people that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent natural rights, for, happily, the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance, requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens ...

"May the children of the stock of Abraham who dwell in this land continue to merit and enjoy the good will of the other inhabitants -- while every one shall sit in safety under his own vine and fig tree and there shall be none to make him afraid."

3. The Imam in charge of this project is the nicest guy you'd ever want to meet. Read about his past here.
4. Around five dozen Muslims died at the World Trade Center on 9/11. Hundreds of members of their families still grieve and suffer. The 19 killers did not care what religion anyone belonged to when they took those lives.
5. I've never read a sadder headline in the New York Times than the one on the front page this past Monday: "American Muslims Ask, Will We Ever Belong?" That should make all of us so ashamed that even a single one of our fellow citizens should ever have to worry about if they "belong" here.
6. There is a McDonald's two blocks from Ground Zero. Trust me, McDonald's has killed far more people than the terrorists.
7. During an economic depression or a time of war, fascists are extremely skilled at whipping up fear and hate and getting the working class to blame "the other" for their troubles. Lincoln's enemies told poor Southern whites that he was "a Catholic." FDR's opponents said he was Jewish and called him "Jewsevelt." One in five Americans now believe Obama is a Muslim and 41% of Republicans don't believe he was born here.
8. Blaming a whole group for the actions of just one of that group is anti-American. Timothy McVeigh was Catholic. Should Oklahoma City prohibit the building of a Catholic Church near the site of the former federal building that McVeigh blew up?
9. Let's face it, all religions have their whackos. Catholics have O'Reilly, Gingrich, Hannity and Clarence Thomas (in fact all five conservatives who dominate the Supreme Court are Catholic). Protestants have Pat Robertson and too many to list here. The Mormons have Glenn Beck. Jews have Crazy Eddie. But we don't judge whole religions on just the actions of their whackos. Unless they're Methodists.
10. If I should ever, God forbid, perish in a terrorist incident, and you or some nutty group uses my death as your justification to attack or discriminate against anyone in my name, I will come back and haunt you worse than Linda Blair marrying Freddy Krueger and moving into your bedroom to spawn Chucky. John Lennon was right when he asked us to imagine a world with "nothing to kill or die for and no religion, too." I heard Deepak Chopra this week say that "God gave humans the truth, and the devil came and he said, 'Let's give it a name and call it religion.' " But John Adams said it best when he wrote a sort of letter to the future (which he called "Posterity"): "Posterity! You will never know how much it cost the present Generation to preserve your Freedom! I hope you will make a good use of it. If you do not, I shall repent in Heaven that I ever took half the Pains to preserve it." I'm guessing ol' John Adams is up there repenting nonstop right now.
Friends, we all have a responsibility NOW to make sure that Muslim community center gets built. Once again, 70% of the country (the same number that initially supported the Iraq War) is on the wrong side and want the "mosque" moved. Enormous pressure has been put on the Imam to stop his project. We have to turn this thing around. Are we going to let the bullies and thugs win another one? Aren't you fed up by now? When would be a good time to take our country back from the haters?
I say right now. Let's each of us make a statement by donating to the building of this community center! It's a nonprofit, tax-exempt organization and you can donate a dollar or ten dollars (or more) right now through a secure pay pal account by clicking here. I will personally match the first $10,000 raised (forward your PayPal receipt to webguy@michaelmoore.com). If each one of you reading this blog/email donated just a couple of dollars, that would give the center over $6 million, more than what Donald Trump has offered to buy the Imam out. C'mon everyone, let's pitch in and help those who are being debased for simply wanting to do something good. We could all make a huge statement of love on this solemn day.
I lost a co-worker on 9/11. I write this today in his memory.
"The man who speaks of the enemy / Is the enemy himself."
                                                                        -- Bertolt Brecht

1939 Saturday Evening Post

This is an Oldsmobile ad from the August 5, 1939 Saturday Evening Post.  The Post used to be a quality weekly magazine and featured many famous authors, cartoonists and illustrators.  They are probably best remembered as a promoter of Norman Rockwell who did many wonderful covers for them each year.   As a matter of fact, this issue has a Rockwell cover too, but it is not the editorial content I am blogging about here.  


As you may remember I am the world's #2 worst Packrat (these days we are called Hoarders).  I say #2 because I always figure there must be someone somewhere who is even worse than I am.   Recently when I glimpsed a featured Hoarder on the TV show of the same name I was appalled to see that I am actually nuthin' compared to a real live reality show packrat.....in fact my mediocre little messes, junkpiles and inexplicable collections are so feeble by comparison as to make me feel ashamed that I use the word to describe myself.  


However, I was assiduously going through a carton of stuff I have saved since my Dad died with the hope that I could bring myself to find at least one scrap that I could make my clutching fingers dispose of and I found the Post.  When I saw the date I showed it to Mickey and he wanted to look through it before I tossed it out.  He is the one who found this incredible ad for the new 1940 Oldsmobile with the price starting at $777.  Yep, that is seven hundred and seventy-seven dollars, folks.  But don't forget, the minimum wage in those days was probably 35 cents an hour.  I know when I had my first job after school during high school....probably 1943....it was 40 cents an hour and I was thrilled to pieces to take home $8.00 a week for after school and Saturdays. ( During the summer when I could work full time it was the grand sum of $16.00 a week and I felt rich as Midas.)


Anyway, I am having the devil of a time getting my sticky fingers to let go of  this magazine and it occurred to me that someone out there might want to look through it so I'm making an offer with no strings.  I will be thrilled to mail this rare item  free to anyone who might like to have it  (first come first served).  Now, don't expect mint condition......some of the pages are loose and the edges of some are tattered, but the content is legible and will amaze the hell out of you.  And,  if no one wants it I will not be offended....in fact it will make it easier for me to toss it away.   


Of course, if  I get one or more takers it will simply validate my theory that everything that I have saved IS valuable and that there is probably someone in the world that would be happy to have it, but I will not let that corrupt my newly found drive to lighten my load.  Feel free to respond promptly my dears........... going, going, gone.
























d

OK,OK Already......so I took some photos......

I am a bit tentative about posting these because I shot them this morning and did a very quick and sloppy job of editing in my eagerness to get some of them blogified..  I love taking photos but am very insecure about my camera skills.  However, you, my beloved readers,  actually demanded visual evidence of my recent activities and the effing chest that nearly ruined my life, not to mention my hip joints, knee joints and assorted spinal connectors. 

I am also uneasy that I may have generated unrealistic expectations and that you will view my exhibits with jaded glances and remark something derrogatory like, "Patuiy" or the ever reliable "WTF".   Worse yet,  you will scribble "unreliable" in the margins of my profile.   However, I have learned that Blogging is not for Cowards......for fools, certainly, but not for the faint-of-heart so here goes.

Here is the highly touted and much dragged hither and yon Chest  with painting by Peggy Nagel and Mexican Glass vase.  Please forgive the intrusive wires....I plan to do something about them soon.  I also intend to remove or camouflage various bits of mess around the bottom edges.  By the way, the software seems to have cropped off the left side of this photo, but if you  click on it you can see it in its entirety.

This is the Mexican china cabinet which houses my collection of ceramics from my world travels.  The plates hanging above the cabinet are all from Turkey. The rest of the contents are from Greece, Morocco, Portugal, Spain, Indonesia, Mexico and even California.

The large Majolica plate on the top shelf is from Taormina, Sicily.
The vase in front of it is from Ravello, Italy above the Amalfi Coast across from the Isle of Capri.  A glorious part of the world....I am salivating as I recall that wonderful trip.  Wish I could send you all there for a week of R and R.  Nah, maybe not....you would all hate me when you had to come back to wherever you were.....

Believe it or not, all of these were brought back by me in my suitcase. (a few at a time, of course)   My method is to wrap the delicacy in all my dirty clothes and be sure that it is centered in the case and protected on all sides.  Amazingly, I have never had a  disaster.....talk about being lucky .......

This is the cabinet that used to live where new Bombay Chest now resides.  This is the one that contained over 250 bank statements complete with checks going back to 1995......it took poor Micky more than 4 days to shred all the ones I scuttled.  I think I kept 2 years worth, just in case.  (well...once the IRS demanded that I produce a copy of a check I had sent in with my income tax and I was able to do it so don't laugh too loud)

It appears that Gussie has found a new favorite place to recline (totally ruining my careful arrangement of objects) and Winnie also seems to like it where it is now.  I am sorry I could only get half of Winnie into the shot.  I also notice that I only got half of Gertie as well.  In case I never mentioned it, my menagerie also includes a dog....well, sort of.  My cousins sent me the most charming doggie sculpture by an artist near their home in Long Island, NY.....I will try to get a full view of it and post it in its entirety some day.

To end on a slightly different note,  this is just one of the many abominable piles of flotsam and jetsom which occupies most of my abode now that everything has been uprooted for relocating.  We will all  now pause to say a silent prayer for my strength and resolve to hold out during that infernal process.

Well, I hope y'all have enjoyed the picture show.  I will post more pics bye and bye.  I will go away now and put cold cloths on my forehead.

Having to Repeat 4th Grade Is Not Really So Bad After All

Life is so friggin' amazing if you ALLOW it to be that I am constantly finding myself flying through the air upside down and backwards and being deposited roughly on my ample tush .....ashamed but awestruck to the core that my Guardian Angel, instead of  merely trying to shake some sense into me,  did not throw up his hands in disgust at my stupidity and simply point his magic destructo-finger at me and reduce me to a large grease spot on the driveway.  And, as I sit there,  ruefully rubbing my dented derriere, wondering what unworldly force hit me and why, a glimmer of light flickers in the dimness of my brain and I hear myself (or some wiser self) saying, "Dammit, old girl, didn't you learn that same lesson last week?  (last month?, last year? last lifetime?).  How could you have forgotten such an important epiphany?"  I fear that my trouble is not one of memory but simply a breakdown of faith....in who or what I am not quite sure.

Now, those of you who know me or have come to know me (in the most decent sense of the word)  by way of my bloggy confessions and ravings know that I am not talking here about any kind of organized religious
faith ....being that I consider all rigidly structured religions a misinterpretation and total distortion of a few once possibly valid ideas and an unfortunate and criminal  abuse of power.  However, I do believe in a number of the good ideas randomly scattered through the world's accepted religions and consider myself a decent and a spiritual human being in spite of my unorthodox principles and cockamamie beliefs.  And, I definitely believe in what is being referred to these days as a 'Higher Power'.....a power greater than myself that is the source of......well everything........and one that we can tap into if we have faith and the right attitude. 

That being said,.......now where in the hell was I going with this? ...........ah,  yes......my shortcomings in failing to maintain my faith that things can come out right despite errors in judgment.......well, you know, even Pollyanna Stearns cannot always get enough distance and objectivity on a particular pile of shit to be able to intuit that there is probably some nugget of value buried within the steaming mound.  And so it was that, several weeks ago I brought near disaster upon myself by accidentally opening an ad in my spam mail.

Now, you must understand that when I moved from my 1 bedroom apartment to this little house in 1972 I had just barely enough of anything..  It wasn't hard to place the pieces I had and to decide what I needed to build to make everything work and I proceeded to do just that, and it was Good.   As the years drifted by I probably purchased one or two things like an IKEA bookcase and a Mexican china cabinet to display and protect the gazillions of ceramic plates that I collected during my trips around the world.  Mostly, I had plenty of furniture (how many chairs can one person's fanny occupy at one time?) and if I needed something I either scavenged or built it, but that all stopped many years ago when my house began to bulge from being overfed and I honored the danger signs.  In the past 15 or 20 years I have not added anything major nor have I rearranged one damned piece of furniture........why should I....everything was fine where it was.

Of course, during those years I must confess that I did buy one or two new essential things......garments such as bras, panties and tee shirts and, due to my near fatal case of pack-rattedness  I must also confess (in an unintelligible mumble, with downcast eyes and toes scuffing dejectedly at the corner of the rug) that I was never able to go through and discard the shamefully shabby and generally unwearable.....no, things just got crammed into drawers with eyes squeezed shut (to avoid having to make any decisions or glimpse of bras size 34 B that I will obviously never fit into again......gawd, did I really EVER fit into those.....?.....sigh) and once the drawer still closed everything was OK.  Denial and Sloth  prevailed and it was Good.

Recently some ominous signs began to appear when said drawers made occasional cracking noises and were threatening to burst forth from their moorings and spew their contents of unmentionables across the bedroom, down the hall  and beyond.  I realized I had to face the fact that I must either cull the junk  (cold sweat appearing on forehead here and severe hand tremors beginning) or purchase a new unit.

So, wouldn't you know, that would  be the very day that I happened  to accidentally open a piece of spam-mail and viewed a monster sale item, a chest of drawers so lovely, appealing and delicious (and soch a bargain) that I could barely avert my gaze before fainting with love  .......... I found myself in a Dr. Strangelove kind of wrestling match as my right forefinger strained toward the Buy button and my left hand clamped rigidly around the right wrist to prevent that abomination from happening.  Believe it or not, I held out for about 10 hours before remembering that it was a one day special and  caved in to the impulsive, impractical, screaming - I want- I want- Terror-Tot (who, I must admit,  still occupies a small room in the attic), without  considering the consequences.....oy, the grim, fateful consequences.........like, for instance,  WHERE in the hell are you going to put the damned thing?

Over the next week I gave serious thought to the "where" problem all the while kicking myself in the  behind for my foolishness because it became obvious that, no matter where I decided to put it, the project would require moving about 3/4 of all the furniture and chatchkes in my house,.  Finally decided in despair that I would simply put it up for sale on Craig's List and write on the blackboard 100 times, "Lois is a big, fat idiot".


But when it arrived I simply had to see what it looked like......I mean I may be a total idiot but I am not IronWoman.  Big Mistake.  One look and I fell irrevocably in love and HAD to have it ......  Aaarrrggghhh.

Since that moment my life and my home have  been turned upside down.  There were 2 possible locations for the new chest but it was obvious that every bookcase,cabinet, chest of drawers and object thereon and therein not only had to be moved but emptied first ......too heavy to move full.  This once peaceful abode looked like 6 tornados had hit it (and much of it still looks that way)....... after one attempt to set things up in the bedroom looked simply awful, everything had to be moved again but on the 2nd try in the living room I  finally found the right place for it and was able to chose the perfect 3 items from my vast packrat collection to grace the top  of it.  I have also, to my amazement, found a painting of my ex-partner's in the garage that I have been trying for years to find a place for that complements the chest perfectly and have found that my handblown 4 foot tall Mexican glass vase containing dried artichoke stalks sits beside it like it was meant to be there all along. 

Somehow,through bleary eyes, I discovered a place for the cabinet that used to occupy the wall now devoted to the chest, have managed to relocate thousands of objects and stuff that had to be removed frim same in order to be able to move it and have, wonder of wonders......been able to shred hundreds of bank statements dating back to 1995 (found on the bottom shelf)  without a pang of conscience and with some glee.  Of course, I could never have managed all of this without the help of Mickey, my wonderful caregiver......he is great at helping move things and doesn't mind spending 4 days shredding.

Meanwhile, 4 chests and 2 bookcases have been rearranged in my bedroom  in a very pleasant and convenient arrangement.  (made possible by having had to move all the furniture in there for attempt #1).  Gazillions of books, objects and indescribable stuff still needs to find a home, but little by little we are getting there and the whole effort has been not only exhausting but exhilarating and awesome.  I foresee that is will take me at least  10 years to complete the effort meaning I must stay alive at least till I get it all done,  thereby preserving my life  for quite  a while.  

One of the many other fringe benefits which have come out of this is that I now have a music system installed in my living room that is connected and operational and I can now listen to some of my wonderful  collection in comfort and ease.  (Have been unable to do that for 10 or 15 years due to having both my music systems stacked and stored in a corner of my office because it would have  required moving too much furniture to set them up where they belonged.  Yesterday I gingerly put on one of my favorites, Beethoven's Violin Concerto #5, and literally wept for joy upon hearing it again after so many years of being able to listen to it only inside my head.   Followed  this with Nat King Cole's Trio and cried some more.  The cats looked at me like I was crazy but what do I care for their opinions their judgment is often more faulty than mine.

I have already made headway clearing debris from one set of drawers in the bedroom and I  believe I will be able to continue.  Till now I have been unable to make myself do this despite 20 years of trying so it turns out that my foolish and impulsive idiocy could actually be viewed as an inspired act that generated a string of miracles and has already improved my life immeasurably.  

Anyway, no need to continue......I think you  get the picture..... Only thing is.....had I but known what would be involved besides faith.....oy.....cough, gasp, pant, groan......well, at least I think you can tell that my broken hip has mended fairly well................

........as for my ongoing general insanity..........I fear there is no cure and little hope in that direction.