February 13, 2017
Are you a re-user of baggies and Ziploc bags? I am. If a bag (or a piece of foil) is dry and in pretty good shape, I always stick it back in the drawer.
And that is just where today’s story takes place: back in the drawer.
Just to set the stage for you: we have four drawers to the left of our kitchen sink. The first drawer is for flatware and the second drawer is where we store our baggies, Saran wrap, aluminum foil, etc. (Question: Do you call it aluminum foil or tin foil? I’m never quite sure what it should be.)
The third drawer is for dish towels and the fourth drawer is for snacky/sweet items.
Well, recently Steve noticed that the snacky/sweets drawer was not closing easily; in fact, it started to get so bad that one day when he tried to close it, it bounced back out a little.
Of course, my handsome handyman husband would never allow a household mystery to go unsolved so he promptly removed the drawer and began to investigate.
This is what he found.
There were so many recycled bags and pieces of foil, they completely obscured from view the visage of this intrepid, mystery-solving man.
The two of us quite came to the realization that when we had been sticking bags back in the drawer, we hadn’t sufficiently anchored them in their original containers.
Eventually the unanchored items began to mysteriously wend their way to the back of the drawer and then just as mysteriously, float their way past the third drawer and down to the back of the fourth drawer where they lay in wait for many months until the shear immensity of their numbers rose up in great power and caused them to shut down the closing of the fourth snacky/sweets drawer.
If that isn’t a fascinating story for a Monday morning, I don’t know what is.
let me give you a gander at what his bedside table has been looking like lately. Can you tell that this is a man who likes to read? It’s one of the numerous things I love about him.
He was in bed with a cold and flu all last week; in fact, he didn’t even go to church yesterday, which is a rare occurrence.
This is what he posted on Facebook on Friday:
The creeping crud got me this week. Been in bed four days thinking I’d kick this thing any time. Finally went to the doctor. (The delay is a male thing but I have been amazingly pathetic at home so as to engender the most coddling from Beck.)
While checking in at the doctor’s office I coughed and was asked me to wear a mask. I chose the one with Donald Duck on it. The receptionist thought it appropriate, I’m not sure what she meant by that.
I wear it with honor.
Quack, cough, quack.
A few people who commented on his post said they thought at first it was a disposable diaper. Now there’s a thought!
I wanted to mention that a new reader named Vivian left a comment on the great post Sarah wrote on Monday.
While I am always glad to hear from new readers, I was especially happy to hear from Vivian because she is 86 years old! I am so pleased to have a reader with so much age, experience and wisdom.
And that got me to thinking about the age range of my readers in general, wondering especially if I had anyone reading older than eighty-six. Or on the other end of the spectrum, if I had any readers under the age of eighteen.
And then that got me to thinking about reader’s ages in general so I created this handy-dandy poll which will take you all of .78 seconds to participate in.
Thanks ahead of time for helping me (and you!) get a quick age overview of the wonderful Smithellaneous readers.
Thrift stores, fuzzy socks
and conversing with my Yorkie are all on the list of things I love.