Droppings

Clump #70:  Clear out bag of trash from former shoe pile.

This site has, up until now, been free of coarse language.  I’m sorry to offend any delicate readers with the following paragraph.

My daughter has a good friend from high school whose mother used to call the store, “Linens ‘n Things,” “Sheets ‘n Shit.”  (A factor in the chain’s demise?)  Sometimes the coarsest word is the most descriptive, so I’ve been thinking of the pile I’ve been dismantling lately as “Shoes ‘n Shit.”   And here’s another pile of it.

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This project has made me think about how the influx and outgo of stuff in a house is like food in a body.  And also like the cycles of nature in the world.

My mother and I sit outside and watch the changes in season with these two maple trees above us.  We have been charting their progress and find it fascinating that the tree on the right was all leafed-out in the Spring, while the one on the left was barely budding.  But now the left one seems to be winning the race.

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And here’s another way of looking at “winning” as it relates to autumn.

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In my experience, the blazing colors right now are more riotous than mute.

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And decay is part of that big, wondrous circle of life.

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(Above photo taken at the 2013 Philadelphia Flower Show.)

My Ironing Pile Is Eating My Meditation Cushion

Clump #26:  Conquer ironing pile.

I swear I did not stage this photo.  The meditation pillows are a little hard to see, on the lower left.  My poor Chi!  Here’s a confession about me and ironing.  Subconsciously I know that the minute I iron the items in the ironing pile, they will be put into action, worn, and then — in a flash — will be back to the ironing pile again.  By postponing the inevitable, I stop the cycle for a while.  It’s not a good excuse, but it’s all I’ve got.

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Here’s the basket hidden below, with poor Christmas place mats wondering when they will ever see the light of day.  I guess that answers the question of how long the pile has been festering — not the whole pile, mind you, but certainly the bottom-dwellers.

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And here is the “After” shot of mission accomplished (part of it), and another, more virtuous confession.  When I finally start ironing, with a fluffy, romantic movie on to keep me company, I actually enjoy it.  I watched The Holiday and Chocolat to help me through this ironing monstrosity.  Another perennial favorite in my ironing movie collection is Pride and Prejudice.  An ironing movie must be one I have seen previously, otherwise I wouldn’t want to look down at what I am doing.  Also, the movie must have a happy ending.  There is something very cozy about getting all the wrinkles out of the fabric at hand as the heroine of an ironing movie, inevitably, gets all the wrinkles out of her life.

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I apologize to loyal followers of my blog who have wondered where I’ve been.  I got off-track with a trip through different time and weather zones.  Here are some photos from this year’s Philadelphia Flower Show, featuring a recreation of Big Ben (London calling, again!) to illustrate my boggled mind.  On every hour, the clock would flip out in this way: here we are starting at 9:00.

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And then the gears would crank the clock face out (digitally) …

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To a garden-themed riot of all things British, with British musical accompaniment …

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And changing colored lights …

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Beatles popping out of the garden …

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And other beloved British musicians …

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Like Led Zeppelin …

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And whoever this is. (?) (I guess I’m not as cool as I thought!) …

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Mr. Bean and Freddie Mercury; Benny Hill, Monty Python (not pictured) and so many others …

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Book-ending with the Beatles sprouting from the garden again, older and fancier.

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Whether it’s stopping the clock, leaving reality for vacation, or avoiding the ironing pile, postponing the inevitable is never a good long-term solution.  Excuse me while I meditate on this for a while.