No TOT today - I'm too tired plus I can't get any pics on here anyway... my laptop is going crazy. Can't do much at all on it -it's saying I have no space for applications to run so I guess that's why I can't get any new photos to load. I have 237 drafts saved here on blogger - the majority of them not finished. Some things were probably said in a different way and some are probably super irrelevant now... some I was probably too upset to continue. I really should weed through them and get my drafts down to a reasonable number. I was thinking about bringing this back to a photo a day blog but there's still too much I need to say and my heart's not going to be happy until I do... hence the 237 drafts still lingering around. So I'm just going to randomly pick one...
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I was trying to make some room downstairs and came across some old stuff... I've seen the shows and listened to the talk show therapists who try to re-train the hoarders and convince people that it's not the stuff it's the memories you can carry without being tied down to the physical part of it... I get it but (sorry for the but, Pat) there's something about seeing your mother's or grandmother's hand written recipes or a ticket stub from some show or whatever that is worth keeping even if it's binned up because you are running out of room. If it was up to me I would have parts of my life framed and mounted like some tacky Friday's restaurant - little moments of time - and I would just walk around and look at them. That's one thing I loved about Dixon House... I would walk into a room and look around and be very happy. Everything was thought out and loved - be it the paint colors or the tree Aunt Joyce made that has always been on the pig curio...stuff like that. I feel thrown here - like I don't belong. Kind of funny since it was my house. I don't feel right here and wish my husband would just talk to me...(written post never finished.)
Here are some things I found today.
A letter and check stub from when my mother won $2500 in a contest at a gas station - 1968.
My "admission" letter to Mother Goose Nursery School - 1976.
Some letters from Margaret who owned the Caprice in Wildwood (the hotel we always stayed at) - early 1970s
I used to write down the tunnels as we went through them... late 70s - early 80s.
An old GF ticket stub - 1996.
Song lyrics - hmmm 90s I guess
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