Some days you wake up and you’ve just got quiet in you. Quiet is good for getting things done. I’ve been meaning to redo my bar display shelf for awhile. I had taken many of my “treasures” of forties through sixties barware up the antique mall when I was playing that sell stuff at a mall game. The ones that didn’t walk needed to be shelved. With three months of disuse my remaining bar kitsch has gone all dusty as well, so I washed everything and crafted a new arrangement. I found some things that I’d been missing but thinking about.

I found a packet of Forget Me Not seeds that The Women’s Safe House had sent me in thank you for some volunteer heavy lifting, so I planted those in two little brass trays and set them out to see if they’ll germinate this late.

I also found this triangular piece of wood that belongs on the bottom of a wind chime. I found my drill and made a hole such that I could string the wood onto the bottom of the chime that I have out on the back porch and after several tries I got the hole the right size to slip the string through. Our fall cookouts will have a little more music to them.

I found my mother’s bone chopsticks that she brought back from Japan during one of our furloughs from the mission field in New Guinea. I was worried that I’d lost those when R moved out. You never really know everything you’ve lost when you separate. Three years out this October, I’m finally losing more of the loss.

You might know my friend Beth. She has a blog linked in my sidebar. Yesterday we (some of our extended group of friends) moved Beth into her new condo. Beth and I were roommates in college for three years. We met at the Days Inn that we were both managers at. The house we rented belonged to another manager, Laura, who had moved out to the country and seemed unable to sell her city house. That was a great house. I should have bought that house, slug farm and all. I miss the fireplace, the back deck, and the friends we shared that house with over the years.

At first Beth’s family didn’t know what to make of Beth living with a man. Initially, despite being unsure what to make of the situation, they said they were glad to have a man’s voice on the answering machine because of some problems Beth had had of the stalker variety. As they got to know me they began to see me as another part of their family. Beth and I are like siblings. I’ve fed her parents and brother at numerous BBQs and her mom has even bought me a bottle of booze or two (or more) over the years. Beth’s mom is very curious about this new woman I am seeing. She keeps tabs. It’s very endearing.

Beth has been unsure about staying in St. Louis, she’s devoted to her family on the opposite side of Missouri and a life in Kansas City would be closer, but this is where her job is and this is where we are, her chosen extended family of friends, so she’s gone and done it now. She’s sunk her finances and life plan into a piece of property that suits her well. Of course I’m glad she’ll be staying.

Lately Beth has developed a new tag line that she uses around me. She says, “Oops, did I say that out loud?” Beth, Jes and I were sitting at our table at Karen’s wedding and I was telling some story about Karen that involved me mentioning my ex R and what she may or may not have thought about something. Beth said, “Who the fuck cares what R thought about anything. Oops, did I say that out loud?”

That’s the way of it. I help Beth move and she helps me move on.