“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so.”
- Mary Jean Iron
The afternoon yesterday brought more surprises - unfortunately, not good surprises. I did my nails, got dressed and ready to head out for my much needed eyebrow wax and some groceries and a pair of stockings. Just as I was heading out the door, the sky opened up and sent a shower of hail, followed by rain. I figured I could find a pair of pantyhose in my drawer and hope the lights at the reception were dim enough that no one would notice my unibrow. The only grocery problem was that we were out of milk but even that was not a crisis. There is always a can of whipped cream in the fridge which will do in a pinch for my morning coffee.
I really wanted to see Gray's Anatomy last night but as we were going out and wouldn't be back before late, catching the episode would require PVRing it. I don't spend much time in the downstairs family room anymore. Though the exterminator assured me when he was here in September that there are no more mice in the house, I'm still wary. The TV set with the PVR on it is downstairs. I told myself it is time to stop all this silly anxiety, especially when it comes to going downstairs in the broad daylight. Mice are nocturnal and there aren't any in the house anyway. So I walked down the stairs to set up the PVR. Just inside the door was a mouse. The mouse wasn't moving but I was so hysterical, screaming and crying that I didn't know if it was frozen in place from my screaming or really what was happening. I blindly ran up the stairs in a state of hysteria. I somehow managed to run my last pair of pantyhose. I ran outside and stood on the porch crying. After a few minutes I made my way back into the house, grabbed my jacket, purse and car keys and drove to the end of the block where I knew Geraldine would provide me shelter. When she answered the door, I was still crying, still shaking and coughing uncontrollably. Poor Ger. She thought someone had died.
I know that my reaction to a little mouse (especially one that turned out to be dead, either from the poison the exterminator put in the walls or because I gave it a heart attack when I saw it) is a little irrational. I just can't seem to do anything about it. I called the exterminator again. Unfortunately they can't get here until Monday. In the meantime, I cannot go downstairs and I'm living in a highly paranoid state. I didn't even want to spend time alone in the house today.
That worked out okay because next Saturday is the semi-annual rummage sale at my Mom's nursing home and Nan and I have a lot of work to do to get ready for it. People have been dropping bags and boxes of trash and treasure off for several weeks and we do all the cleaning, pricing and set up for the sale. It's a lot of work but it gives the residents and visitors a lot of pleasure so we don't really mind. It's always interesting going through the donations. I tend to be most surprised at the many items which should have gone to the garbage but come to us instead. And then there are the rare treasures - an old teapot or painting, a piece of vintage jewelry, an old camera. If something is of substantial value or it's very special, we set it aside to be kept at the nursing home or at least to give them an opportunity to decide if they want to keep it or sell it. Otherwise, it gets attractively priced to sell.
Today I sorted through a big batch that was brought to us from someone's estate. These were the things family members didn't want to keep. Some trash. Some treasures. There were three big bags of collectibles - candle sticks, brass bells, figurines, stemware, china boxes, china cups, little jars and bowls. There was a small glass pitcher with the owner's name and the date 1904 engraved on the side. I had a catch in my throat when I saw it. I can't understand why a family member didn't want to keep it. The newspaper that the items were wrapped in was musty and damp. I would guess the bags had been sitting in someone's basement for some time. I was a bit nervous about sticking my hand into the bags - still paranoid about finding the body of an unwelcome visitor. It took me some time to get through the three bags. At the bottom of the third bag, I reached in and unwrapped a tea cup and gasped with surprise.
Nineteen years ago, Nancy and I were charged with the task of cleaning out my Aunt Sadie's apartment. It was just a few months before she died and while at that point we were well aware that she was suffering from dementia, we didn't know until we cleaned the apartment, just how long she had been suffering. The apartment was a disaster zone. There was no order, no seeming rhyme or reason as to why things were where they were. There were rotting groceries in the kitchen. The smell was awful. Nan and I took turns crying throughout the day. I was cleaning out the kitchen when I came upon two teacups wrapped in newspaper which had been packed dirty and stashed in an unlikely place. The teacups were exquisite - Japanese lusterware, footed and faceted. One cup is pink, the other turquoise. I brought them home where they are housed separate from the balance of my teacup collection, in the living room cabinet. I have only one friend who I allow to drink from those cups, my friend Gail.
Gail loves teacups and I've been trying to stock her supply for several years. I looked for a cup like those special ones for 15 years before I finally came across a yellow one at an antique market at Yorkdale mall. I bought it for Gail's collection. Last year, I came across an orange one at an antique shop in Havelock. It has a small nick near one of the feet but I really don't care. I bought it for myself. This afternoon, unpacking those bags, I came across the purple one. Needless to say, the purple cup is now in my possession. It will not make it to the sale. It has obvious signs of wear but that only shows me that it was well used and well loved by it's previous owner. I paid more than the market value of the cup so the Houses of Providence made out fine. I don't know if the cup will stay in my possession or find it's way to Gail's collection. Either way, that teacup gave my heart a little jolt of joy - a small wonder to lift my spirits on an otherwise anxious day.
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