(No Title)

My husband is a patient man. Really, he is. He's restrained himself as I've hauled home treasures these past couple of months, the keepsakes of my mother's estate. Sometimes, he's even done the heavy lifting. A house divided cannot stand, they say. But my mother's house has been divided six ways and then some. She moved her most essential furnishings into her new small apartment, and the rest has fallen into the hands of her five children and fourteen grandchildren. And still we--her family--remain undivided. I've been unpacking the boxes slowly, more for his sake than for mine. How many alligator handbags from the 30s and 40s should one man have to endure all in one shot? And what's he going to think when he sees the circa 1950 Mixmaster and the unwieldly crates of embroidered pillowcases? A woman can take sentiment too far. Just now he wandered into the kitchen, where the landscape changes hourly as fond possessions trickle up from my stash in the basement. "Do you like my spoon rest?" I ask, as I fondle the ceramic montrosity. It was my mother's, and her mother's before her. He should feel honored. "Well, I wouldn't want it sitting out all the time," he answers, in the tone of a diplomatic hopeful. "Honey," I say, "if you wouldn't want a spoon rest sitting out all the time, you wouldn't want it sitting out at all...right?" I stir the pot of beans, plop the syruppy spoon on the spoon rest, and look up at him, satisfied. "Uh...I love it," he says. And I can just hear my father saying the very same thing.

Posted by Katy on 08/10/02 at 10:43 PM

Fallible Comments...

Madison, I just really wanted to write your name, it's so much fun! Thanks for reading here!
Posted by Katy on 12/31/69 at 06:00 PM
that was adorable!
Posted by Madison on 12/31/69 at 06:00 PM
Annie--I wish you a wonderful family who will love nothing better than to "deal" with all your stuff!
Posted by Katy on 12/31/69 at 06:00 PM
Bridgie--We got us some good men, didn't we? xox
Posted by Katy on 12/31/69 at 06:00 PM
katy, i love love love how you capture these moments.<br><br>wonderful.<br><br>hopefully, no one will have to _deal_ with my van gogh tile one day. :)
Posted by anne on 12/31/69 at 06:00 PM
Yep...Jim felt the same way about my spoon rest. And the cookie jar. And the wooden note-holder. And the egg poacher. And... :)
-----
Posted by Bridget on 12/31/69 at 06:00 PM

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Personal blog of christian writer & fallible mom Katy McKenna Raymond in Kansas City, Missouri Katy is represented by Greg Johnson at WordServe Literary Read more Katy at LateBoomer.net Follow Katy on Twitter Follow Katy on Facebook 123 Recent Posts Try Becoming Brenda Starr Off Beat Scattered That’s It So I’ve Finally Signed With An Agent. Now What? The Spoon Sciatica Sweetheart A Woman’s Train of Thought Has No Caboose However much we own, we are all still living on borrowed time After all, when restaurants shrink portions, they don’t shrink prices. As with everything in life, balance is key. Slow down, you move too fast… Yeah, I know. I have issues. Search Advanced Search Syndicate Login E me at katy @ ngenius.com	(No Title) My husband is a patient man. Really, he is. He's restrained himself as I've hauled home treasures these past couple of months, the keepsakes of my mother's estate. Sometimes, he's even done the heavy lifting. A house divided cannot stand, they say. But my mother's house has been divided six ways and then some. She moved her most essential furnishings into her new small apartment, and the rest has fallen into the hands of her five children and fourteen grandchildren. And still we--her family--remain undivided. I've been unpacking the boxes slowly, more for his sake than for mine. How many alligator handbags from the 30s and 40s should one man have to endure all in one shot? And what's he going to think when he sees the circa 1950 Mixmaster and the unwieldly crates of embroidered pillowcases? A woman can take sentiment too far. Just now he wandered into the kitchen, where the landscape changes hourly as fond possessions trickle up from my stash in the basement. "Do you like my spoon rest?" I ask, as I fondle the ceramic montrosity. It was my mother's, and her mother's before her. He should feel honored. "Well, I wouldn't want it sitting out all the time," he answers, in the tone of a diplomatic hopeful. "Honey," I say, "if you wouldn't want a spoon rest sitting out all the time, you wouldn't want it sitting out at all...right?" I stir the pot of beans, plop the syruppy spoon on the spoon rest, and look up at him, satisfied. "Uh...I love it," he says. And I can just hear my father saying the very same thing. Posted by Katy on 08/10/02 at 10:43 PM Fallible Comments... Madison, I just really wanted to write your name, it's so much fun! Thanks for reading here! Posted by Katy on 12/31/69 at 06:00 PM that was adorable! Posted by Madison on 12/31/69 at 06:00 PM Annie--I wish you a wonderful family who will love nothing better than to "deal" with all your stuff! Posted by Katy on 12/31/69 at 06:00 PM Bridgie--We got us some good men, didn't we? xox Posted by Katy on 12/31/69 at 06:00 PM katy, i love love love how you capture these moments.<br><br>wonderful.<br><br>hopefully, no one will have to _deal_ with my van gogh tile one day. :) Posted by anne on 12/31/69 at 06:00 PM Yep...Jim felt the same way about my spoon rest. And the cookie jar. And the wooden note-holder. And the egg poacher. And... :) ----- Posted by Bridget on 12/31/69 at 06:00 PM Page 1 of 1 pages Commenting is not available in this weblog entry. Next entry: (No Title) Previous entry: (No Title) << Back to main


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Personal blog of christianwriter & fallible momKaty McKenna Raymondin Kansas City, Missouri

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Personal blog of christian
writer & fallible mom
Katy McKenna Raymond
in Kansas City, Missouri