So as I write this, I am sans internet, sans energy, and yet also sans sleep.

My fervent readers will wonder where I’ve been. What has become of the Misplaced Boy and his steady stream of whimsy? Well, I’ve been busy.

We are going through the house, through all of Mother’s things. Both of my sisters are here and we are plowing through the collected items of 85 years. Some of it has value, which will be (we hope) settled by an estate/yard sale this weekend. If you’re in the Slightly Soiled South and you’re not a creep, shoot me an e-mail and I’ll give you the address. We hope to sell a piano, some furniture, and some china. Also lots of books, CDs, DVDs (my Mom’s movie collection, although it’s been picked over pretty good there are still some gems left).

Some of it has great value. We took a few pieces to a jeweler and he gave us some pretty good money for what little actual gold was there.

Most of it has sentimental value, and that’s the hardest to part with. My sisters Iris and KC are here to keep me from re-piling everything up and re-hoarding it. I have enough pictures of Mom and Dad, and enough keepsakes, even some to take back to Cali for Boodles and Tania.

My sisters and I get along great. Each has their own approach to this process. KC is definitely “The General.” She keeps us moving, motivated, and organized. Without her this would not be getting done as efficiently as it is. If it all. It would be a much more painful process.

This is not to say that it isn’t painful. Each decision of keep/sell/trash feels like the death of a thousand cuts. It’s all a part of life, modern life anyway.

By the end of this, and until the house sells and/or I leave for California, the house will be just that. A house. A largely empty house devoid of the spirit that Mother brought to it. It will be a home again, for the next people who live here, but not for me. My home is in Cal with Boodles. Always has been.

Ichabod, the Glory has departed.

Thanks for hanging in there with me. I’ll check in again when life returns to normal…or as close to normal as it gets for me.

Art: Ichabod~the Glory Has Departed, originally uploaded by Heart Windows Art.


6 thoughts on “Ichabod

  1. Reminds me of the song “Junk” by the Beatles…

    It’s a very melancholy endeavor; the relinquishing of sentimental artifacts, whatever they happen to be. It can also be quite liberating to realize that in the end, what matters most isn’t the seniment encapsulated in any item, nor any memory, but, in the experience.


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