20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


Our Day trawling around the Furniture Shops

And so I be in a writing mood or should I perhaps say mode

Today we ventured furniture shopping to adorn our humble abode

Alas we found nothing that took our fancy so

We came back empty handed not parting with our dough

~~~~~

All we want is a simple buffet not the buffet that means food

A cabinet for kitchen we hunted for and we determinedly perused

Some were made of Australian oak, some were laminate

We baulked at prices, workmanship, it was more than we could take

~~~~~

So we are empty handed not a buffet to our name

And we shall hunt again next week and hopefully strike our claim

For how hard is to shop for one, tis harder you than you think

At least now home and feet put up I can have a bloody drink!

Reposted from ramblingsfromamum

 


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Finding New Places

There were her clothes, slacks in every color, warm sweaters, decorated sweatshirts, comfy shoes, even her underwear. I sat on her bed surrounded by it all. She was no longer here to wear any of it, but here I was, looking at it, feeling sad and perplexed.

What would I do with it?

Well, first is her blue and green winter coat. My mother’s favorite colors were blue and green, and this coat was so her. Perhaps I could wear it? No, it’s just a little too big. Seventeen years later, it still hangs in my closet.

I found new homes for the shoes. That wasn’t difficult.

But other things? Oh my. I wore some of her sweaters for awhile. I couldn’t wear the slacks because they had had to be large enough to wear over her left-leg prosthesis. Still, giving them away tugged at me.

You might wonder about the underwear. I thought of just throwing it out. But she had worn it, her most intimate and pretty things. I’d heard that certain little consignment shops took things like this so I washed up all her bras, panties and slips one last time. They looked like snow they were so white, as if never worn. Some were brand-new.

I sat there on her bed with its blue and green quilted spread, tears falling down at the import of my decisions. I thought, what will my children do with my things when the time comes? Oh look, her jewelry.

She had the most beautiful jewelry, chunky necklaces and dangly earrings. With her short straight dark hair those earrings looked terrific. She always wore six silver bangle bracelets on her left wrist. I have those still, and some of her other pieces. Well, I should admit that I kept quite a bit of her jewelry. She had exquisite taste.

I looked around her apartment. Pots and pans, dishes, silverware, towels, linens, bedspreads, pictures, furniture, decorations. I felt overwhelmed.

Today her round glass-topped table and matching chairs, her couch, loveseat and ottoman, and one twin bed are in our home. Some of her art and all of her poetry are here as well. I have the green pitcher with the fluted edging, which fits beautifully into my living room. She loved it, and I love it. It’s as if we have wound our love of it together to keep it important. I have some of her silverware and serving pieces.

Other than that, I have her last calendar upon which she had decorated the squares for everyone’s birthdays and anniversaries. I have the little red sparkly heart which she used to wear on sweatshirts. I kept her black baseball-type cap with the gold sparkles. My granddaughter loved it so, so I gave it to her. My mom would approve.

So far I have named things. The best I have are the feelings of love and security she gave me, the sound of her voice that resounds in my memories, the help she gave me with tenderness all through her life, and the blessings of having been her daughter.

I still am.


1 Comment

Rain Rain Rain

Finally! The earth is getting a good soaking this morning. Earlier it got very, very dark, almost black, the thunder announced the coming presence of rain, and our weather report is for electrical storms.

I am waiting for the guys to come to clean the ducts today. I know, right? Does that sound boring or what? But my pulmonologist advised us to do this, plus the carpets and furniture will be cleaned professionally on the 27th. If, after all that, I’m still having respiratory problems, he said he’ll have to look in other directions. In the meantime, I’m having allergy testing on Tuesday.

Anyhow, the earth must be gobbling up this rain like we do turkey on Thanksgiving. There are shades of green on our hill that I haven’t seen in a long, long time. The birds are chirping away, and I think all nature is in tune.


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Another Direction

I saw the pulmonologist again this afternoon. While I’m better I still have a little coughing and some raspiness to my voice.

He was pleased with the progress I’ve made. However, he’s going to do some allergy testing on August 14. He also recommended that we have our carpeting and furniture professionally cleaned, even though we no longer have our cat, because kitty fur and dander is still present. I haven’t had that service for awhile so it’s good timing. I’ll call tomorrow to make that appointment.

I hope to get some answers.


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Rooms

The furniture that occupies my mind
takes too much space. This room is not defined
by loveliness or style, is not a place
where I can live without the frightening chase

of seizures that move in as residents.
They hide within my brain as if in tents,
and I can’t rest in my own living room.
I feel entrapped as in a stone-cold tomb.

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