The Past Is a Blast

The past is a blast of what, you ask? It’s more like a punch to the gut sometimes and it sure makes it hard to slog through to the future, if you aren’t careful. I’ve been trying to let go of things, but it’s sometimes more successful than other times.

These are my first glasses. I’m 27. They are back in fashion.

Today I canceled a lot of domain names and blogs I’m no longer using. Our event venue at the church in Cameron never happened, as we pivoted to other projects and started Hearts Homes and Hands. So, that website is gone (though I saved all its stuff). Maybe someday we can start again. I also canceled a bunch of domain names having to do with our former Hermit Haus Redevelopment company (it’s where I primarily blogged before this one, and it has so many stories and photos I treasure, like when Mandi interviewed us all). We had been careful to get domains that resembled the right ones, in case people typed in the wrong thing. I guess I saved myself a thousand bucks or so, but it felt like admitting we failed (even though we didn’t fail, we just moved on when real estate went on its complicated recent course). It still sorta hurt.

Me in 2017. I had a strange hair-do.

And, as part of moving things out of the Bobcat Lair, Lee brought home the rest of my photo albums, and wanted me to open the boxes and put them somewhere. I’d been avoiding opening those boxes, since they are full of memories of happy and sad times (naturally). I just didn’t want to see my first husband, who died not long ago of cancer. And I didn’t want to remind myself of how amazing my older son was as a baby and how much I enjoyed being his mother. But, the good thing was that I found some really cute photos of my younger son with his grandfather in Ireland. My heart was warmed, so I asked Lee to scan them, and I sent them to him.

It’s odd to me that I like to save objects that remind me of the past, like gifts people gave me and little souveniers, but I have a hard time looking at photographs, because they put me right back into other times, some of them pretty rough, like when my mom died and I was only 26.

Poor mom wasn’t really cut out for the stresses of life.

But, at least I’ll never be able to forget the good things, like Pumpkin, my dog sister from the 1980s, who brings Vlassic to mind so easily. And by the way, his nose is looking way better.

Well, hmm. The past is just there, and just little neurons firing away in my mind. I know it’s best to focus on the present! So, here’s how the shawl I recently made came out after being blocked. You can really see the pattern now!

I’m proud of that!

Boxes of Tears: I Found the 80s

Why do people keep their old love letters, breakup letters, heartbreaking letters…? Heck if I know. To be honest, I didn’t realize I was one of those letter-saving people until tonight.

Oh look, more boxes.

Anita and I were doing our weekly box opening, when we found a box of a variety of personal treasures. I found Lee’s first novel. I found some cards from my children. I found this box, all sealed up.

A very nondescript box.

I did not recognize it. It was just a box. Anita said it was a treasure, so I came to look. I opened it and thought, huh, letters. They must be from my mom and grandmother, because no one ever wrote me.

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