Sometimes when I am at the grocery store, I leisurely,
nonchalantly walk aisle by aisle and wonder, “Which food should I consume to
get that awesome jar??”
Reduce, reuse, recycle.
I’m not doing it because everyone is doing it. That’s lame.
I’m doing it because I just don’t care. I don’t care what people think. I don’t
care what people say. I don’t care.
I take that back. I care a little if you’re going to be
mean. Or say rude and nasty things about me. It hurts I won’t lie. And while it
is more difficult to do so, I shake it off and move on.
I used to collect those spoons when I was little. You know
the ones that have the places name on the handle? And a little picture of the scene
that quite honestly I never saw when visiting there. But I collected them just
the same.
I had so many at one point that I didn’t have enough space
to store them so my Grandpa hand carved a “spoon rack” And I hung it up in my
room. Every time I brushed by the display it would clink and jingle with the
memories and beauty of all those places visited.
And now look at me. I collect jars. Sometimes I think I
should collect yarn and cats as well. But I don’t have a porch to sit on and
act crazy as the little children run by on their bikes and scooters. Am I
getting ahead of myself? I’m giving away my life’s plans! Shoot. Well, now you
all know I will be an old spinster woman. Thank you and good luck.
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| other places have jars too. el que. |
Anyway! I use jars all the time. Not because it is the “hip
and cool” thing to do. No, I’ve been doing it for longer than I can remember.
It wasn’t cool. And yet I was still doing it. It is just simple to me. There
are no memories tied to these jars. Except that one might be the one that held
the sauce I used on that dinner date. And that one I carried all the way up the
mountain hike that one time. There’s the one I had hot chocolate in that one
night… Ok maybe there are a few memories.
That’s what I have been focusing a lot on lately: Memories.
I don’t know why it has been just lately, but so many have come flooding back. Maybe
something or someone is trying to tell me something. Who knows, but here’s to
the jar full of coffee I’m sipping on.
And maybe the smoothie I’ll have in it later.
Do you collect anything? Or should we all just work on
collecting memories?
I used to collect key chains....then they ended up in the box of an old pair of running shoes. My Grandfather also made me a shelf for another one of my collections. It was made to hold the old collectible model texico trucks. You know the ones of old trucks, planes and trains? My favorite was the fire engine that came with a little dalmation fire dog and a fire hat to go along with it. Well he built me a shelf so I could put them somewhere for everyone to see. He bought a different one for me every christmas for a long time. I wish I could expect the next one this winter, but it's been a few years since he passed.
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