Thursday, January 10th.
I love words. I love language. I've been buying this calendar since 1980, yes, 1980. I cannot imagine my living room without it. I used to save the pages and try to use as many words as possible in sentences when I wrote my friends. Eventually, because some words, like "hydromancy" shown here, are not words I could fit into a reasonable sentence, the stack got to be years deep. Sensing frustration, I tossed the lot and haven't looked back. Some words make it into my vernacular. Some, I just acknowledge when I tear off the page in the morning. Normally, this calendar has a back stand but, in trying to pop that open, I broke it off. I'm going to have to prop this year's calendar against something. Oh well.
Friday, January 11th.
I've never had a house where the collection could be properly displayed or used. I've always wanted to give a party where everything I have could be properly utilized from the plates and cups to the covered baking dishes and the coffeepot (assuming I can remember how to make coffee in the thing).
I haven't collected anything in years. I used to ask for something every year. Storage is the problem and the boxes of Jewel Tea sit on shelves in the basement. Maybe some day...
Saturday, January 12th.
Why save it? Rita passed away in June of 2001. I don't have anything to remember her by other than the things she gave me and photographs. Time has blurred the memories of her and the things we shared. I keep the candy dish even though it's superfluous to my existence because it reminds me of her. "I saw this and I knew you had to have it," I remember her saying. I've never used it, but it sits there, reminding me of a time in my life when we called each other once a week, just to talk.
Sunday, January 13th.
The framed cat plate was given to me by a woman I used to know who lived in Canada. We met in an online book chat room and because fast friends. She went through a series of jobs before becoming a professional framer. This plate, with a cat asleep amongst books, was one of her first attempts at framing something different than a square.
I keep it because of the subject matter. A cat asleep amongst books. That sort of describes me. Cats and books. Life is good. The piece also reminds me of Margaret. She was vivacious, willing to take chances, gregarious. I am, by nature, reticent and quiet. It takes me a bit to become comfortable with new people. Margaret was not that way and I gravitated to her like a moth to flame. We drifted apart in 2003. I sometimes wonder what she's doing now.
Monday, January 14th.
Beverage: Darjeeling tea