He can’t refuse an estate auction. As a result, he has way too many tools. It’s probably not the same shovel, but I’m going to say it’s the one I watched him and Grandpa use to build my playhouse with. That makes it more special.
The Fear of Forgetting
Monday, March 7, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
#51
We got used to leaving his door open a crack. It’s probably unnecessary now, but I can’t see stopping.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
#45
I don’t know why, but I wanted a floating clock. Fishing line and screw eyes in hand, I drilled the first hole…directly into my finger. After a good cry, I tried again.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
#43
They used to buy one every vacation, at least that’s what I’ve been told. By the time I came around, the tiny racks were full and just a fixture of the décor.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
#41
She loves working with them and, believe it or not, we happened upon a going-out-of-business gourd farm auction. Awesome.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
#40
It came from Arizona, complete with cactus skeletons and an antler. It was just always there in the kitchen, so I never really considered how ugly it is until I saw it out of context, hanging in dad’s garage.
#39
Every summer she grows the same variety of tomato plant. The tiny yellow globes look so good. They eat them like candy. I hate tomatoes.
#38
I always wanted one. She gave it to me our first Christmas. I never dreamed how much fun our friends would have when they visit, secretly leaving it in inappropriate poses. Every time.
Friday, January 14, 2011
#37
He preceded her years ago. She still puts out both lawn chairs in their favorite place. I’ve never seen her sit there.
#35
The little tree produces every other year. She’s still around as long as we use her recipe for pear honey.
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