Books, like people, leave you with a feeling

 

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I remembered a book I read when I was around ten years old, but I could not remember its title. It was about an animal, a fox, I thought, and I loved the story. The author, as well as any other identifying characteristics, were buried deep in my subconscious, underneath an accumulation of years and other books. I tried to dredge up those particulars, but they were buried too deep, and I finally gave up on having the pleasure of reading it again.

    Fast forward a few years.

A time to keep and a time to give away; "To every thing there is a season"

 

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Someone I know is cleaning up his life. He is selling or giving away the bulk of his possessions. Things like a vintage car, a tractor, a truck, a vacant chicken house, a kit for a building he never built, a fiddle, a mandolin, books ... 

    "It's all going," he tells me. 

    Why? Because he is an octogenarian, and time for him is running out. So that his children will have less to do when he departs to a place where clutter does not exist, he is sweeping out the contents of his house and barns and sheds. These acts of simplification have been underway for several months, and he is making headway, but there is more to do, as his earthly possessions are plentiful.

    Earthly possessions. We all have them, and most of us have more than we need.

    I ran across an article about this very thing, along with the mention of a book titled, The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning: How to Free Yourself and Your Family from a Lifetime of Clutter (2017). The title reminded me of Someone I Know, and I decided to read the book.

Musings from a Facebook Flunkie

 

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Several years ago, my twenty-something nephew told me I should join Facebook. I responded by saying that my quiet life did not warrant postings for all the world to see. Eventually though, I signed up and crept onto the Facebook bandwagon. It carried me through some positive experiences and a few negative ones. 

    I had the most fun on Facebook when a different nephew created a particularly witty post using words that sounded alike but were spelled differently and had different meanings. Everyone who commented followed his lead, and the ridiculousness snowballed from there. Creativity shifted into high gear when every commenter tried to be more creative than the previous one. One of the most memorable words from that exchange is the word truculent, which my nephew finagled into a sentence about the "truck you lent me." The whole conversation continued for days, not hours, and it provided tons of laughter and a welcome diversion from the seriousness of life.