Now's The Time!
Updated: Apr 26
This cartoon is one I drew probably thirty years ago when my hair was thick and permed. Those were the days. But, today is today and now's the time! "Time for what?" you ask.
Before this forced time home, my schedule was full. It got so full I used to complain about not having a cleaning lady. Cobwebs waved accusingly from the corners of the high ceilings in my farmhouse. "I'm too short to do that," I'd claim. Or, "I'm too busy." Now, I blame it on my age. "I'm too old to do that!" All lies. The truth is I'd rather be doing something else.
The root of my problem is that I'm a tucker. My house appears neat, but I tuck into draws anything I don't know what to do with or want to look at. Well, my old avoidances now stare me in the face. This tucker is stuck in the house without an excuse.
Stuff lies in the back of my closets, in the crawlspace, and in my drawers. It's been taunting me, calling me to do something with the things I don't need. So, I've begun to clear out. But the problem is, now I have bags of "garage sale stuff" in the corners of my rooms where the cobwebs used to live. Now I can SEE the stuff I don't need. (I did this once before and never got around to a garage sale. Instead, I tucked the bags in closets, under beds, and behind the couch.)
Should you decide to follow this plan, prepare yourself. It takes courage to look at what you've tucked into dark corners. Too many of the things I'm uncovering hold vivid memories. For example, I found a teeny, stretchy blue sock that was the very first sock my grandson, Owen, ever wore. Now he's 20. That wee sock brought out tears of joy, and tears of missing those years. Can't throw that out.
Then, I found a mug with a crack in it. Why save that? My son, Kyle gave it to me when he was three. He and his dad stopped at a garage sale and he wanted to buy me a surprise - crack and all. Can't throw that out.
I also came across a notebook of letters my husband wrote to me when we went to a marriage encounter on our tenth wedding anniversary. As I read his words I could feel all the energy draining out of me. I suddenly was too tired to continue.
I've lived in this house for fifty years. It's full of my mother's things, her mother's things, and my mother-in-law's things. If the walls of my home could talk you'd hear the stories of five generations of Stevens that have lived here. Every crack and sag has story connected to it, memories I hope I never forget. Oh, I will have a garage sale - and you'll all be invited. But, until then, while I'm alone in the house, however long that might be, I'll let these precious memories keep me company - cobwebs and all.
MY NEW BOOK IS NOW AVAILABLE!!!
To order, go to my SHOP