Too Many Chickens

I have decided to stick to my hunt and peck style of expression for a little while longer..I can’t afford a new laptop and if that stupid voice recognition progam keeps up it’s rebelious attempt to prove me inferior I may throw it across the room and jump up and down on it!!! After completing the redundant tutorial and spending over an hour reading to my spiteful little computor…it still refuses to accept my drawl or acknowledge my sincere attempts at interactive communication….I’m ready to stick my microphone up its output jack.

Anyway… I have been sooo busy trying to keep my life in some sort of order (as well as trying to meddle in my friend’s and family’s business) that I have completely lost what little ability I had to complete the smallest task. I feel like my feathered flock is in overdrive!!! My youngest child is getting ready to move across the country and has been sorting and packing for a month now. With me trying to help her, we have both managed to create numerous stacks of clothing and stuff that she may or may not take…as well as a couple of stack she is pretty sure she isn’t taking. She had her own house and it was full…now most of it has been moved here to my overly furnished home. The lines of ownership are becoming vague now because everything has begun this odd blending or melding process. We both suffer from packratitis…it seems to be genetic also…and I believe it is a side effect of the chickens because I have noticed a direct correlation between the size of the flock and the size of the collection. We can’t throw anything away because you never know when it may be exactly what you need and why would you want to have to go buy it again? And besides that…they might not even make it anymore so at that point you would have to completely redo it all. I know this disorder has been passed down through at least six generations and have personally seen it exhibited in the last five. I can remember my Grandmother’s collection of what ifs. She had a cupboard full of little butter containers, egg cartons, straws, rubberbands, bread ties, and other kitchen type collectables. One room of her four room home was dedicated to storage. There were all types and colors of fabric scraps for mending anything that come along as well as creating her handmade quilts…old broken wire hangers that wouldn’t support cloths anymore, but were irreplaceable when it came to repairing things…one cabinet full of wood scrapes that she had saved over many years, and there always seemed to be one just the right size to fix what ever needed fixing…and dusty overfilled boxes that I never got to the bottom of because I always got distracted by some treasure along the way. When my Mamma passed away at 101 years old, my Mother ended up with a lot of these boxes. She has them stored along with many more of her own, and I imagine that someday they will all end up here. Along the journey some things have been tossed away (not without reservations) and new things gathered, some generously bestowed to others deemed worthy, and some woefully misplaced forever. It is a rippling stream of history. Now my grandson enjoys going through my stuff and asking me about each piece as he examines it. Who knows…by the time he has kids it could be worth a fortune on Ebay!

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