(Note: I'm talking about little stuff for which I've already created "spaces." I'm speaking of the Chap Sticks, coins, medication bottles, ear bud wires, pencils, scripture sheets, Penn State materials of the world.
What I am not speaking of is: -Clear nail polish--it has many uses 'round the kitchen,
-the squatty glass thing that reads cream but never has anything in it-the font makes me happy,
-a supple buckskin leather journal that I feel is almost too important to write in-the cover reads "got something to say." I think I do-I think. It reminds me to say it,
-the four bible study books that are perpetually out and the 24 colored pencils I need with them, they are easily moved so don't baby-bath water me there. -the house phone--I know its has a cradle, but it's not sleepy yet,
-the patina green candlestick that's moved around the kitchen for ten years. Where the candle is supposed to go is full of interesting pebbles--which the other adult recently knocked off the counter top on his way out the door to work..."no problem, I'll pick these up, no worries sweetie, I got it, have a great day," I said.
I am also NOT talking about the little Lego battleship ship (yes, I meant to say ship ship), it's tiny and it reminds me of my mom--who I'm sure will read this and be happy to hear of it! It is not about the pewter lapel pin that reads "all things are possible" because it reminds me every time I have to move it out of my way, I have a Big God! And it's not about the succulent plant with the broken vase that everyone has to be careful with--it's a succulent so it doesn't need enough water to warrant new vase-it's fine, it's simple and porcelain--and-- okay, broken. You can hardly tell).
What this is about is the napkin irony.
I am forever moving stickers, 3-d ones of the Boston Red Sox logo. I move them more than laundry, and what space can they have, where can they go? Since Christmas, 4 3-D Red Sox book marks have appeared, someone trade me their coal, these things are driving me crazy. So, I decide to stick them in books (they were purposed for it). The other adult in the house, has been reading the Bible through the year. He's on Dec 22nd. Which I think is fantastic--I'm already behind on a study that starts tomorrow. Grrrr. I don't like that; it makes me fight "giving up." --hum, now that's interesting--I open his book and guess what he's using as a bookmark: a napkin. Here I am holding the Red Sox bookmarks and he's got a napkin. If that's not enough, what I said out loud upon seeing the napkin marking the pages of his through-the-bible-in-a-year is.
"What kind of book mark is this?" I heard my own voice even as the trash lid closed the useless thing on top of garbage in the dark. And yet, doesn't it seem that this is the holy grail of my very project-Notes on Napkins. I'm digging through 1999 like I'm looking for a VIN#. Urgent because there is on it something to tell, something of importance to be reclaimed out of scrap and brought forth to some sort of napkin ambassadorship! (I'm lifting my hand slightly, and blinking slowly in encouragement for you to hold your applause). Isn't the very purpose of us being here together on this blog because of napkins? Isn't it me that is searching for a disregardable thing that has been stored somewhere right here, where I am? Isn't it still here because of chicken scratch and short hand that has moved me.
Yes! This is why we are here.
You have encouraged me to continue the dig. I will find you napkin. I will find all of you and let the world hear what's been written on your back.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comments