This is a re-run of a post I wrote earlier. Believe it or not, I’m still into digging out, throwing away, re-settling, and still finding things I’d forgotten about. Along with the dust, I always make a few delightful discoveries. Housecleaning has its own rewards and one of those is stumbling upon things I had forgotten. Pack rats have nothing on me when it comes to sticking little remnants of this and that back into corners or baskets or drawers and then forgetting about them. But, as in all things, sooner or later there comes a day of reckoning.
Here are some completely unrelated finds. The first one is the most recent and I begin with it because it was such a day brightener. It was an actual card that came in my actual mailbox. It was from someone who had read the first Darcy and Flora book, The Cemetery Club. I quote: Blanche! I just finished The Cemetery Club and LOVED it!!! Congratulations on authoring such a page turner! I stayed up way too late because I was dying to find out what happened. The plot was exciting (w/o being macabre) and the characters were so lovable that I’m comforted I get to spend two more books with them. It was a mix of Mitford and Agatha Christie. I thoroughly enjoyed it. (Up-to-date post script: This was such a day brightener, I still have it and plan to keep it.)
And then, I found a scrap of paper I had torn off a newsletter. I’m assuming it was from an Oklahoma teachers’ publication and it listed salaries including wage increases for Oklahoma teachers for 1982-83, The base salary for teachers with a Bachelor of Arts Degree and fifteen years experience was $20,290; with a Master’s and fifteen years, $21,621, and a PhD’s starting pay was $22,952. Hmm. Ver-ry interesting.
Numerous old saying and poems that were cut from newspapers or magazines turned up in my cleaning spree. I especially like The Lake Isle of Innisfree by William Butler Yeats:
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings,
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake waters lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.
When digging into dusty, forgotten corners, I found old dreams, a few faded memories, some things that should be thrown away, and some that should be kept safely tucked away for the future.
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