Monthly Archives: November 2009

Purge

Musings

I’m a pack rat. Maybe not as bad as my mom, and certainly not as bad as my Aunt Leila was, but I’m worse than many. Much of what I’ve kept is only of interest to me, like notes from former students and their parents, paper napkins from special (or ordinary) meals and trinkets (and sometimes the boxes they arrived in) given to me by friends, students, and loved ones. I’ve also kept samples  of my writing from middle school through college (including my personal journals and diaries).

The reason I’ve kept these things is to look back and remember who I was and what I felt when I used/was given/wrote these things. While there is nothing wrong with that, at some point the extra room in the attic or basement becomes filled  or the silverfish find the paper and chew holes through the words and it is time for these things to go. Well, many of them at least.

I began such a purge a few months ago. The first to go were a few posters I’d been keeping just in case I ever taught again. No need for a 12 year old poster about the White House anymore. And my Middle Earth poster from 1976 really has seen better days, even though I did laminate it when I was a teacher.

Although I discovered a few things that I am not sure why I kept them, the reason I kept most of them is still clear to me. Here is a short list of some of the items:

  1. A Washington Post Style section article about the end of the series, Roseanne. I have no idea why I kept that. I didn’t like the series that much.
  2. A Holly Hobbie bell with a saying about friendship. (I never did like Holly Hobbie and don’t remember who gave me the bell)
  3. A shirt with unicorns on it that I was making into a pillow. It was an ugly shirt and would have made an equally ugly  pillow, but I was a sucker for Unicorns.
  4. A Ziggy figurine holding a “Last Place” trophy. I don’t know who gave it to me, or why. I only hope I didn’t buy it for myself.
  5. A shoebox full of slogan buttons from middle school, high school, schools where I taught, department stores where I worked, campaigns, tourist gift shops and miscellaneous other places. These did hold meaning for me and for a while I collected “badges”.
  6. A dictionary full of paper napkins. This might be worth a separate post. Some are pretty funny.
  7. Two disintegrating envelopes. One labeled, “Cinder – One year” and the other labeled “Cinder’s whisker”. The first still holds a small bit of black fur from the cat my father gave me 40 years ago but the whisker has disappeared. (Um. Ick?)
  8. A silverfish-eaten piece of paper which has a note written on it by my dad. I know why I kept this. It might be the only piece of his handwriting I own.
  9. A couple of broken or chipped coffee mugs. One of these mugs was the first piece of kitchenware that I bought for my first apartment and the other was a wedding gift from a Pittsburgh friend.
  10. A boxful of broken crystal unicorns — the were intact until Clare, in an attempt to get something from a shelf in our secretary where the unicorns lived, tilted it enough so they all fell to the floor. I’d given her my unicorn collection, so it wasn’t as if they were mine anymore, but it was a little traumatic — for the both of us.

I got rid of nearly everything from the list above, but did take some photos /scans for old time’s sake.

In which we visit Rivendell

People, Places, Travel

Jill and Gordon are two of my favorite people. Although technically my mom’s friends, I think of them as my own friends as well. I used to babysit for Jill’s kids, when I was in high school and college. Gordon graduated with Dean’s older brothers, Danny and Dennis. So Jill and Gordon are about half-way in age between my mom and me.

I remember Dean and I being invited to their house for dinner once, long ago, before we’d ever entertained (formally) ourselves. I don’t recall what we ate — something grilled, I think, but I do remember Gordon pouring me a glass of wine — it was probably the first time I’d drank wine that wasn’t sweet and cheap. Knowing Gordon, it was probably pretty good wine. I remember having a grown-up conversation with them and feeling really good about it.

We see them occasionally when we visit Elgin — more often now that they raise alpacas.

Gordon is the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. When he talks to you it is as if you are the most important person in the world at that moment. He really listens. He’s also very smart and can converse on many topics and levels. Jill is a trip and a lot of fun. She always has a story to tell, and it usually involves waving hands and various decibels of voice loudness. She also always has a smile on her face. She also cares deeply about her friends and will do anything for ones in need. They compliment each other — Gordon is calm. Jill, not so much. I love these guys.

In or about 2000 they moved from California back to Plato Center, Illinois to help with Gordon’s folks. They moved into Gordon’s childhood farmhouse and soon began raising alpacas. I don’t think I knew anything about these beautiful creatures before Jill and Gordon began raising them, but when you visit Rivendell Alpacas, you can learn as much or as little as you want. Jill and Gordon love to teach people about their herd, as well as alpacas in general.

This past summer we heard that one of the alpacas living at Rivendell farm (a temporary border — not one from the regular herd) had just given birth. I’d never seen a newborn alpaca, called a cria, before so we jumped at the chance to see one.

Rivendell Farm has several pens that hold the resident alpacas. One near the house held the male alpacas and when we walked over to see the rest of the alpacas the males stood so they could get a good look at the females. I was waiting for the wolf whistles from these boys.

The Boys

We saw the newborn as soon as we walked into the pen that held some of the females. The mother made small warning sounds, but didn’t get too upset when we got near her baby.

Two females and the 1-day old cria

I was surprised to see the youngest alpaca walking around so confidently. I also expected it to be much smaller. I don’t remember why it had its ears wrapped in white gauze. Maybe Jill or Gordon will comment and remind me. Right behind the baby is the communal poop pile (I’m sure it has an official name).

The Cria

We visited with the alpacas in this pen for a while, feeding them grain from a bucket. Some got close to us, close enough for us to bury our hand in their soft coats, but some stayed farther away. Before we moved on I caught a shot of Jill and the tiny alpaca nose-to-nose.

Jill and a friend

When we went to the next pen we were treated to two young alpacas — born earlier in the summer — who loved to pick on each other. Gordon picked up one of them and brought it to us to feel and admire soft coat. Jill and Gordan gave us a primer on the types fleece and which kinds are preferred. Some are smoother than others — some are crinkly. All, I think, are warm.

We visited with the herd for a while longer then moved on to tour the rest of the farm. We picked blackberries — which I later made into a rather tart pie, played with the kittens and checked out Jill’s latest works of wearable art.

My mom, feeling generous that day, bought all of us a souvenir from the visit. Clare chose a felted fleece hat, Dean and Andrew each chose knit hats with braids (Alpaca, but not made by Jill), Brandon picked out some wool gloves, also not made by Jill. I found beautiful a scarf. Not alpaca (bamboo!), but made by Jill.

[Note: Gordon explained the white tape on the ears of the cria on my facebook page and added a bit about the youngster:

The cria in the picture was born with his ears folded back, and the tips were turned inside-out. A week with the tape restored the ears to their “normal” shape.

This little boy belongs to our friends the Davis’s. We were alpaca-sitting for them when he was born. He’s one of the friendliest alpacas we’ve seen, as the picture demonstrates.]

I have issues: Part 3 — Lint Filters

Musings,

This is a silly one.

Do you clean your lint filter after each dryer load? I don’t, even though my dad was an appliance repairman and warned me against dire consequences if I didn’t. And even though good friends of ours had a fire in their dryer because of dryer lint, I don’t clean it every load. I clean it every so often — about every 3rd to 6th load unless I wash towels or blankets which give off more lint.

Anyway, a friend of mine told me that when he and his wife moved into their new house the dryer lint filter was packed solid — that the people who owned the house before them had never heard that they should clean the filter after each load. That irked me and now when I don’t clean my filter after each load I feel as if I’m doing something wrong.

There. Said and done.

Begone lint filter issue! (it worked with potato peels and towels)