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Monday, February 14, 2011

I May Sleep for a Week

NEXT week.

Today? More packing. Is there no end to the stuff one can accumulate in better than half of a century? I cannot believe the things I've thrown away or sold. Even a magpie like myself realizes that things don't really even have a lot of sentimental value. The people never leave you. Things break, tarnish, wear out, fall apart, and in this day and age are obsolete by next week.

People we carry with us forever. They live in our hearts.

I dropped a rubber duckie (plastic actually) off for E-Rock (one of the people I will miss most from work) and he promised to send pictures of the new baby girl and the kids as they grow. I love Eric and would have hated to not ever see him again. But we all know that the best intentions we have about keeping in touch with coworkers once we've moved are just that, intentions. Absence doesn't really make the heart grow fonder, it really is more like "out of sight, out of mind."

The tires are rotated and the oil is changed.

I am waiting for bisque - a mug, a platter, a teapot, my last coil, and for four finished and glazed bowls yet to be fired. Lori will pack and mail them but I have to get the last pieces glazed. I should have stopped sooner. Pottery takes a month.

My birthday is Saturday. My best birthday ever.

1 comment:

  1. Very well written. This is something we should all consider. Things don't supply happiness. It's inside of us.

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