27. Sand, Sand and more Sand

We have never experienced a remodel before.  While it is very exciting and Mike and his wife, Susan, are doing such a good job of it and doing their best to keep in mind our comfort, it has sparked something new for me, especially.  Our daughter, Trisha (in Switzerland), said on the phone the other day to use it as an excuse to get rid of things.  I assured her that most of what we had left had a special meaning.  Yee Gads!  How wrong could I be?!!  The renovation is so complete that we have had to unload every cupboard and wall in the kitchen, bathroom and most of the same in the living room and our bedroom.  If you have never been to our cottage, you can't begin to imagine what that means!

I've mostly had the opinion of live and let live and that included closets, cupboards and drawers.  Well, this whole mania has taken on a life of it's own.  Poor Bob!  He has to have his knee worked on again this coming

Tuesday, so I have been working him overtime trying to get it all moved before then.  What a pack rat I have become!  It's really a little embarrassing.  It is true that most of the items have sentimental attachments, however, they have been crowded and covered by dust and things not so sentimental.  

You have to know that I am a child of the depression.  I didn't live through the depression but my parents did.  They nearly starved and it impacted the rest of their lives.  They were never stingy or selfish, but if they didn't need it they didn't buy it and and if they did need it it was paid for with cold hard cash.  Nothing was wasted and when they were through with something odds were they still had the box it came in.  I definitely didn't get that gene.  My mother's house was spic and span, the down side being that if we went somewhere

on the weekend she had made a full breakfast, done all the dishes, swept the floor, made the beds and generally straightened up the rest of the house before the car left the driveway.  I DEFINATELY didn't get that gene.  The closest thing to a criticism that Bob's dad ever said about me was, "Be careful when you close a car door, you might get Sharon's leg caught in it."  It's true that most all things take second place to going some where and it really doesn't matter where. Consequently, my current dilemma.  Instead of following my parents example, I have chosen an opposite path.  The one of least resistance.

This whole upheaval of remodeling has made me clean out and organize every corner and drawer of this cottage.  That includes the SAND CABINET!  An area I have avoided for years.  If you are not a sandoholic I'm sure you are thinking...What the H*@@?  I can even tell you who infected me with this crazy virus!  My dear old friend Sue!  She has kept hers to a minimum by my standards.  Although she wins the award for the most curious piece...her extremely large gallstone.  If you have never touched a gallstone, you are in for a surprise.  They feel extremely smooth and almost wet.  Very peculiar! One would think they would be sharp and well, sandy.  Not so.  But I digress.  

I stood in the living room yesterday with the old wooden ice-box half empty and decided I had the strength to take a tack in  direction.  Sometimes things happen like that at our house.  Out of the blue we just stop what we are doing and start on something else.  Don't ask me why, it's just that most of the time chaos reigns!

I can make the color drain from Bob's face by saying..."You know what we could do?"  "Oh, dear God." is usually his response.  Forty nine years has made him very perceptive.  At any rate, the sand cabinet had met it's fate.  

The sand cabinet started life as a beautiful old french door that our friend Jeff gave us.  (Sue was one of his wives.)  The door has 10 glass panels making it the perfect cabinet.  It is handy to have a husband who can create most any project I suggest.  Now, keep in mind that the contents weren't just dusty, there were also little bags of sand with names of places written on them and lots of odd shaped little bottles that needed filling and labeling.  It wouldn't be such a task if I filled them once in a while instead of waiting until there were so many.

Of course, there is all of the reminiscing that goes with filling or dusting the little vials of sand.  Places we have been or places and stories of places where friends have been.  We have sand from Egypt, Morocco, Russia, China, Europe, South America, the United States, places near and far.  There is even a fabulous two toned stone from the highest pass in Tibet and a sand rose from Saudi Arabia! There are tiny little vials of water from rivers of the world that accompany tiny treasures that line the glass shelves.  Miniature frames with small photos of loved ones and dog tags from old furry friends are tucked in there too.  So it goes without saying that it was an all day affair with both of us laughing and crying remembering places and people.

I  suppose to some folks it looks like a nuisance, a  hodge-podge of silly tiny things, but to us it's a  lifetime of memories.  When we finally finished and stood there it was a good feeling, a sense of accomplishment but most of all it was a sentimental rush of emotion, the kind that leaves you exhausted.  We were pleased, even if most of the day we were up to our eyeballs in sand, sand and more sand.