My plumber came over and tried to stop the leak but it was ready to blow. He patched it up, which seemed to make it worse. He put a bucket under it and said “hopefully it will last until tomorrow when I come to re-plumb it.”.
In my basement…..
are things I had packed away in clear plastic boxes. There was a box of tiny teddy bears that I had made by hand to go with my version of the Buyers’ Choice dolls.
I found my yarn and knitting needles and a scarf I had started making but didn’t finish.
My stained glass poinsettias I made to hang in my windows at Christmastime were neatly packed away with all of my stained glass creations.
My Fimo clay was organized by color and I thought of the “naughty Santas” I used to make that everybody loved…even my mama.
A box of antique hankies that I intended to make a quilt from were all folded up and sorted.
My “Dear Jane” civil war quilt pieces were in a basket. There are two hundred and twenty-five blocks and each one is different. They only measure four inches square and some of the pieces in a square are less than a quarter of an inch wide. They were all sewn by hand.
I found my oil and acrylic paints, brushes and all the canvases. My charcoal pencils and paper were coupled with my watercolors.
My dress patterns were there…long ago discarded for “bought” attire. The pattern I used to make Losers’ shirt for my middle daughters’ wedding was right on top.
There were twenty rolls of cross-stitch fabric and all the embroidery floss I had carefully wrapped around holders and labeled with the color number.
There was a box of silk ribbons that were used for embroidering flowers.
My mat cutter and frame maker stood in the corner.
I found seven quilt tops made out of thirties reproduction fabric. Some of the designs were replicas of true antique quilts and some were original designs. I remembered making them and thinking how good they would look on my antique brass beds.
I found the box that held all my scissors and rotary cutters. I don’t know why but I couldn’t touch them. I just closed the box.
I found the twelve blocks of barns I had made…a different barn for every month. When I was making them, I had them on the floor and Loser came by and stopped to look at them. He stood there for what seemed like a full minute and then said “you know, these are incredibly impressive.”
All of these things fell victim to my depression and have been abandoned. They are orphans now.
In my basement…
there are too many bits and pieces of what I used to do…and too many remembrances of who I used to be.