rock collection

So I've been looking around my small but well-stuffed home office and thinking about all the junk in our locker and dreading the day we actually have to start packing it all up. The idea of moving to a nicer place appeals to me, of course (else why move), but I hate the moving process itself.

Some people like moving because it gives them a chance to start from scratch, to purge junk, to plan their new space with a clean slate. Me, I just want to get it over with. I've always been a packrat, and hate throwing things out.

Part of this is because of the "waste not, want not" mindset learned during childhood. My family wasn't poor, but neither were we rich, and we learned how to make things last. I think that part of my packrat mentality is also because I tend to be overly sentimental about inaminate objects.

When Sara and Annie were younger, for example, they would often pick up things on our walks, like weeds or rocks or fallen pinecones, and give them to Jeff and me.

"This is a present for you, Auntie Debbie," Annie would say, laying the rock in my hand reverently. "I picked it out just for you." Utter sincerity and trust shines from her eyes, and I'd take her special gift, tears brimming up in my own eyes.

When I get home, I'd unload my gifts onto the dining room table.

"What are you doing with all those rocks?" Jeff would ask.

"Sara and Annie gave them to me."

"Oh." Jeff always understood. I'm sure he has his own special rock collection.

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I made pancakes for Jeff and me this morning. I used an Aunt Jenima mix, but at least I used the kind where you have to add an egg and milk instead of just water, giving me the illusion that I'm cooking something almost from scratch. For me, pancakes are just a handy sponge for maple syrup. I adore maple syrup.

We used to live across the road from some dairy farmers who made their own maple syrup the old-fashioned way. I loved going over when they were in the boiling off process (or whatever you call the stage where the water is evaporating from the collected sap).

I also loved reading about maple syrup candy in the Little House On The Prairie Books, how Laura and Mary would pour the hot syrup onto the snow and then eat the resulting maple candy. We used to tried this as kids but it never did work; inevitably the syrup would disappear into the snow and we'd have to comfort ourselves by licking the syrup-flavoured snow. Now, I realize that the trick was probably to boil the syrup until it was thicker. Maybe I'll try that with a niece or nephew someday.





Links/News:

Yay, looks like J.K. Rowling has almost finished the fifth Harry Potter novel, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, according to
this TimesOnline article. Reason for delay: writer's block and a pregnancy.

TimesOnline also has an interesting article about the changing reputation of comics. "Once considered the exclusive realm of juvenile escapism, the comic book and graphic novel now harbour artists who are upending expectations with work that is nuanced, literate and decidedly adult."

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Today's Blatherpics:

These photos were scanned as part of my Family Photo Archive project.

	My mom.
	Me, age two.