Have I mentioned that I’m not a fan of clutter?
Long before Hoarders became a watercooler topic, I had a Hoarder-like experience with my ex and his family.
The ex’s parents had a four-bedroom house crammed full of…stuff. Clothes, books, shoes, more clothes. The bedrooms were wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling piles with a narrow path from door to bed. The family room was only half-useable; the rest was filled with “stuff we might need someday.”
His mom was a child of Depression-era parents, and she couldn’t bear to donate or toss anything that might have use. His dad? Well, he retired early and frequented garage sales, auctions, and flea markets, and accumulated an impressive collection of…
No, really, c’mon. Guess.
Were you close?
No, of course you weren’t. Of all the things for a seventy-year-old man to collect, this probably wasn’t one of your first five
thousand guesses. But for some reason, this is what he always found – and brought home. And he had HUNDREDS. I’m literally being literal here. HUNDREDS. Stacked along every wall, shelf, crevice, and ledge.
But I married his son anyway. (And that wasn’t even the biggest red flag. Not by a longshot.)
I should have known I was in trouble when he wouldn’t let me cancel the newspaper subscription – even when several weeks’ worth were found – not only unread, but still rolled up – under the couch. The tipping point came several years later when we bought our second house – it came with a four-car garage, but we had so much stuff THERE WAS NO ROOM FOR ME TO PARK. My reaction was to throw out an entire closet full of plastic Cool Whip and cottage cheese containers. NONE OF WHICH HAD MATCHING LIDS ANYWAY BUT FOR SOME REASON WE HAAAAAAAAAAAAD TO KEEP THEM
<breathes deeply into paper bag>
To this day I have an aversion to clutter. When I relocated out West, and had to move from my three-bedroom, two-bath abode, the movers scheduled 8 hours and an empty tractor trailer to pack up the contents of the house. They were finished by 11AM and had my life’s belongings in less than a fifth of the trailer.
Anyway. I was thinking of this as I went to organize my Blog Pictures folder (which now has a sophisticated system of color-coded subfolders.) As I was reorganizing, I found some…uh…gems…that I haven’t posted yet.
So before I file them, I thought I’d share them in one big honkin’ motley medley picture parade.
Let’s start with a billboard. I pass this one on occasion when I’m traveling and it always makes me chuckle. I mean….well, look at it:
Bo: “I giddyapped and went to Kirk’s! YEE HAW!”
Belle: <weeps softly into her sweet tea>
Today’s Weather: Rain, yo.
Next, I’d like to share a religious symbol with y’all.
I may have mentioned that I sing in a band on occasion. Normally, when we perform at a church, we’re up front, to the side of the altar, facing the congregation. At this gig, we warmed up and started the service – so far, so good. Then, as the pastor started to speak, I turned toward the altar to face him…
…and I saw…
(We haven’t been invited back to the church yet.)
I’m sure one of the church elders lovingly handcrafted this artifact and graciously donated it to the church, along with a significant endowment, resulting in no one wanting to offend the dude
and his money by suggesting they display a nice spray of lilies instead.
One question. If a dove bearing an olive branch is a symbol of peace, what is this supposed to symbolize?
Never mind. I do NOT wanna know.
Here’s a feline edition of “Where’s Waldo?” adapted from my cat’s last trip to the vet. Can you find him?
You know how cats like boxes? Mine turned into one.
One more. A little while back, I posted about my hair. I really like my hair. It’s really thick and wavy, and it’s supposed to look something like this:
Thank goodness for hats.