For various reasons, I have been hiding items in my home, and then forgetting where I put them. Presents for who knows, turn up in bureau drawers, in the garage, and amongst the dust bunnies in corners I dare not go. Worse still, when I find some of these belongings, like the small box of jewelry I just discovered, I realize I had forgotten I had them to begin with.
But not my underwear. Recently, I had to buy all new underwear —couldn’t imagine where it went to. A few weeks back, the clothes dryer went on the blink, so I strung laundry all over the house. The prayer-flag decor announcing a celebration of the patron saint of stiff clothes; I was so ready for my dryer back. Since my unlikely splurge on unmentionables, I have been finding the missing articles in the most interesting places. On hooks behind doors seldom opened or closed, on bookshelves, blending into the Redwall series perfectly, and the tiny tot books I have yet to part with. All of this is leading up to a windfall of undergarments. Unexpected, yes, and welcome.
Is this a sign of a busy woman, an aging woman, a busy-aging woman, or just a nut-job who needs to focus?
This brings me to my writing habits. On a daily basis, I tend to write snippets, definitions, ideas, new starts, and lists, placing them in different files on my computer and in drawers in my desk. I am cleaning my office this week, and I have found another windfall of writing ideas to keep me busy not focusing on the current job at hand. My favorite tidbit unearthed in this most recent excavation was a 2 inch by 2 inch square of paper which simply said, feather identification lab, Smithsonian… like the gifts huddling amongst the dust bunnies, or the underwear hiding on the bookshelves, this treasure was intended for another purpose, but I cannot remember what.
Maybe a Ginkgo Biloba tea is in order,