Finding Memories Among the Junk

   When I woke up this morning, I had no intention of writing a blog today.  I had every intention of cleaning my art room so I can actually think when I happen to wander in there.  
   It used to be my favorite room in my home. It was mine and I had it arranged exactly like I wanted it to be.  That was a long, long time ago. Somewhere along the way, it became the "catch-all room"!!  Just open the door and put any and everything in there, because I had nowhere else to put the "stuff".  Shut the door quickly before anything got out and pretend everything was "just fine!" Worked fine until I retired! Since then it has been a "niggling" in my mind that will not go away, will not be quiet. 

Today my plan was to purge that room of all the unnecessary junk and reclaim my territory!!!  Sounded good, until I started actually sorting my memories and trying to decide what to get rid of and in some cases try to figure out why I kept the "stuff" in the first place.
   I started with my books. I have a home full of bookshelves and I have decided to donate a lot of my books to the shelter in Fulton. Also, Tami wants my James Patterson novels.  After separating those books, I still had four bookcases full of wonderful words, that I am not yet ready to part with. 
  I sat down in the middle of the floor--finally, I found a spot-- and began to go through boxes marked 1980, 1996, and 1998.  I found the first Bible that I ever actually read in 1980.  It is an old King James Bible that has been highlighted, underscored, notes written in the margins and is as rugged as an old love letter that has been read time and time again.
  I sat there and reread scripture I had marked for my daughters, my husband, and many other people. I read promises I had made to God and promises He had made to me. It bought back a lot of memories. It went in the pile to keep and bring into the den.
  I found New Years Resolution from 1996. I had to laugh, the first thing it said was "lose 30 pounds". The same one I have had for years, only in 1996, I didn't need to lose 30 pounds, just thought I did:)
  There were letters from Tommy from 1978  when he lived up here and worked at the nuclear plant. He was looking for us a place to live. I found several journals, mostly started but not completed. Still, they were interesting to read. One of the journals had pictures of places I wanted to live. Here are a few of them. There is no doubt about what I like. It is all there in the pictures. 

  I don't remember where I found these pictures.  But I still like them. I love the steps and windows the flowers and the colors of the homes. I wanted us to rent an apartment in a place like this and just wander the streets, making memories for a summer. 

 

   Look at the colors, the flowers winding up a stone wall. The arched doors with a mailbox beside the door.  The shuttered windows filled with flower boxes.
The people one could meet and the stories they would tell. Marvelous adventures, I have in my imagination.

                                                     
  This picture suggests a getaway spot for just a couple.  Sounds good. We would send the girls to Kentucky and take a month to live perhaps by the Mediterranean Sea. I visualize a rented home with arched doors opening into a courtyard. A place where coffee is served each morning.  We would do the cooking ourselves and dine out in the evenings.  The sea is close and the air smells of salt, water, and damp moist earth. We are surrounded by a thicket with enough coverage that what we do will be unobserved. We drink wine by candlelight and swim whenever we want.  There are no clocks, no deadlines, everything is played by ear.

                                        
  I bet when I bought this picture I was thinking about a vacation with the girls. It looks like a fun family place.  Everything is colorful, close, handy and very enticing.  My daughters would have had a wonderful time there. The memories we could have made....yes I am sure they were in my thoughts when I bought this picture.

                   

  This is a real memory and it is all mine. I love the ocean.  My muse goes there a lot to regroup and get us new ideas. I was sitting on a blanket watching the sunset and thinking "this is as good as it gets" why do I ever ask for more or settle for less?

  
  Whoever painted this was stealing my dreams while I slept.  A dock or small pier to walk out on to paint or photograph the beauty all around.  A place to write a story or create a poem.  A place to read but only for short periods of time. I can read when it snows!  Today, I will soak up all the sights, smells and sounds of this corner of the world.

   
  Another real memory added to the mix of wishful thinking. This was one of those rare perfect days--a storm and a promise.  Life was good that day.

               
  I don't remember what I was thinking when I bought this picture.  When I look at it today, I think of a place where my girlfriends and my daughters would have a wonderful time. The ocean isn't far, flowers are abundant and Becky would be in heaven.

                  
  This is my imaginary place where I go to write, paint and regroup.  In my mind, it is on the coast of South Carolina.  It is an imaginary page out of a Pat Conroy book, that only he can write. I would live here six months out of the year. Although I do not remember buying this picture, I guarantee what I am thinking now is pretty much what I was thinking then.  My family would come and go as they pleased. Each doing the things that make them whole and happy.

  The art room still isn't cleaned. It is better than it was. The day isn't over, I may venture back in there again. I am really glad I went in there today.  I am keeping the Bible, the letters and the pictures. I will share their story with you.  Until next time........ remember, it is never to late to make a memory. You never know when or where they will turn up.