Hello again, Friends.

In some odd obsession, I’ve been cleaning out all of the nooks and crannies of my life–my desk (yes, again), my bathroom drawers, my closet, my purse (yeah, the one I don’t even use), my journals (woah, nellie), and my jewelry box. I was amazed at the ancient treasures I stumbled upon! How have I accumulated so many things? How have I held onto them for so many years? I must admit, the jewelry box was the most fun because I had the least idea of what was inside. I don’t wear a lot of jewelry. I’m mostly content with my opal ring and opal necklace.

Each item–junk though it may be–tells a story about your life, someone or something you’ve encountered along your journey. Each trinket is, in itself, a memoir. I was convinced that the oldest thing in my jewelry box was the Grand Marais bracelet. My Girl Scout Troop had gone to see the sand dunes, stopped for a meal at some local restaurant, and we were all given one of these bracelets. I loved that bracelet! It’s nothing spectacular in and of itself, but it reminds me of Claire and Jessica, who–even as children–shaped my life in incredible ways. Someone remind me to blog about my Girl Scout memories at some point.

But as I opened the bottom drawer of the jewelry box, I caught my breath as I saw the older trinkets. I didn’t even know I had them anymore. The butterfly charm was a necklace of my mother’s. It had been a gift from her mother. The opal charm had been Grandma’s, and she had given it to me one summer when we were downstate visiting her. The necklace itself had broken long ago, and I’ve no idea when I got rid of it; but the opal is still there. It’s not a real opal, mind you, but it is a Grandma opal. And the Avon bottle…Grandma had given me several Avon bottles as a child. She collected them. I can never quite remember where the shelf was–the placement doesn’t work out in my head–but she had a shelf in the kitchen where she kept them all on display. I have several of them still, but this is the only one that still has the original perfume in it. I opened the bottle and the scent was so familiar that I felt as if Grandma was right there in the room with me!

The marble, you ask? Grandma had given it to me one summer when the boys weren’t letting me play with them. She told me to keep it near me always, so that no one could ever say I’d lost all of my marbles. 😀 I miss Grandma.

The fortune cookie fortunes, I left in for good measure. I’ve no idea how long I’ve had them. I used to save every one I happened upon.

And as an added bonus, did you note the Petoskey Stone? I had blogged about Petoskey Stones a few weeks ago. This is a polished Stone. Isn’t she purty?

I also wanted to share with you all a page from my journal that I mentioned in my last entry. This is the first draft of the Marla Map that I began back in June. There are several more questions on the following pages, but I stopped writing on that page so I wouldn’t obstruct any more of the map. Now…y’all don’t be critical of my lame drawing (if “drawing” it can be called). Also, it is sideways, so you might have to tilt your head.

Thanks for reading!

Pax Christi.


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3 Responses to Treasures

  1. Kelp says:

    Wow, that stone is beautiful.

    It’s a lot of fun to go through old trinkets and memories 🙂

    I think I actually got a fortune once that told me I was going to have a good boyfriend….I’m scared….*whimper*…

  2. semmie says:

    Hehehe! I think it said you should just scratch the word “have” and write in “be.”

    I was dining at a Chinese restaurant once, and there was a table of four college guys seated next to a table with one old man. One of the young guys opened his cookie and said something like, “The old fellow at the next table will buy your lunch.” And without missing a beat, the old guy opened his cookie and said, “Pay no attention to the crazy college boys at the table beside you.”

    I love fortune cookie wisdom!!!! 😀

  3. Kelp says:

    LOL! Nice.

    I hope I’ll be a good one someday :). Thanks.

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