Because These Pics Were The Easiest To Find At The Moment

The title says it all. Most of my pictures are in a closet. A tightly packed closet. The kind of tightly packed closet that you risk life and limb if not your very life when attempting to remove things from said closet. It's bad. Reeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaallllll bad. It's also behind my dining table. And chairs. And my sewing machine. Get the picture? Sorry, couldn't resist. It's one of those projects that really needs to be done, but I just haven't gotten around to doing. I know it will take at least half a day to do it right, because there are some of those things in there like everyone has.

You know, like those wedding gifts that are 20 years old, and you've never or seldom used, but you really feel obligated to keep. And that *__________* that Great-Aunt Gertie Mae and Great-Uncle Lester Ray gave you and she asks about it every year at the family reunion. So you either keep it packed away in the least-used space in the house, or get rid of it and feel guilty about lying about it. Then there's the "really don't like it, it doesn't go with anything you have anymore-but it cost too much to throw away or give away" stuff, and the "don't know what else to do with it" stuff that you just throw it in that closet and hope you figure out what you want to do with it by the next time you're forced to open the door and look upon the misfits and rejects of your past lives.

Don't try to deny it, I know you have at least one place in your house, garage or shed like that. If you don't, we have nothing in common, so why are you reading this? You should be scrubbing your sidewalk, or cutting your lawn with scissors, or something else you organized cleaning freaks do. By the way, I have a YARD, not a lawn. Back on topic. Ahem. What about that kitchen drawer? You know, the one you use for a catch-all? Come on, admit it!! Those bread twisties? Yep, there they are. Unless you're looking for one, then they go hide somewhere. It's one of the laws of Physics they don't teach you about in college. Now the CIA, maybe. The Culinary Institutes of America, that is. They probably teach you about the junk drawer and wandering twisties. I hear they're pretty thorough that way. You probably have some of the same things in that drawer that I do. Like those wide rubber bands they bunch broccoli together with. They're too good to just throw carelessly away, but I never seem to ever use them. What about mysterious screws and bolts? Like the ones left over from one of those "Easy Home Assembly" projects? Unexplainable parts found in the washer or dryer? Things that look vaguely familiar or important, but for the life of you you can't remember what they pertain to? But you know if you throw them away, they will become very important and necessary to some expensive piece of machinery or equipment as soon as the garbage truck drives off.

Don't sit there with that smug look on your face! Yeah, you there! You know who you are! Would your closets and drawers pass the Mom or the Mother In Law test right now? Oh, WhatEver.......... Mine sure wouldn't, so don't send the Cluttered Closet or the Junk Drawer Police to my house. I wouldn't just be convicted, I would be sentenced to Death By Cleaning. RIP, and all that.

Now that I have confessed all (a few) of my dirty secrets, on to the pics. I think the first three are pretty self-explanatory. October 25, 1985. A lifetime ago, it seems, and it really is to my 18 year-old daughter. She was born 2 years later. I turned 23 two days before these pics were taken. How do you like the b-i-g glasses? They were all the rage at the time, so hush. Ma, Pa and all the sisters there. That's Mom, Sue (oldest), Lisa (AKA Cecil, youngest), Martha (AKA Ducky, next to oldest), and Donna (AKA zztop, middle). I am next to the youngest in the lineup. And Ma and Jessica, AKA Irma and Kahildabob, among other nicknames. Jessica is 6 months old there. She and Ma were having a high old time, and it was a beautiful spring day. That day is one of those magical moments that are frozen in time in my memory. Life was good, and all was right in my world then. I have learned to savor those moments, and appreciate them. I know those are special times, and even more special because of their rarity. I like to take out those memories and look at them again. It makes me happy. And blessed. Because I am blessed. Every day, more than I deserve. And I'll bet you are too.