Once upon a time I was more rigid and conventional about things. For instance, I bought dishes in sets and only used those dishes. It would seem almost improper not to have a full set with all the matching serving bowls and such that went with them.
Now I find it fun to mix things up. Who wants to eat off the same matching dish every meal?
So I just grab which ever one is on top. And if it is the blue and white one, which until now I always had hanging on the wall for some reason, then I enjoy looking at that one as food disappears and the colors show through.
When I eat on the yellow ones, I think of the sun and daisies. Bright yellow and white daisies, which are my absolute favorite flower.
I ask myself why I didn’t think of such things years ago. Why did I march to the same drum?
But you did whatever everyone else did, and it really didn’t occur to me to do it different.
To have a hodge-podge of dishes showed you were poor and couldn’t afford a set. You hid this fact as best you could.
I’ve been hanging quilts on the walls for years. I know it’s not very customary. Bloggers talk about paint colors and getting just the right shade of gray or green. And you can barely even see my walls.
I guess I like a hodge-podge of lots of things. Paint shades sort of bore me after a time, know what I mean? Do we need more green in this or blue or yellow or whatever changes the shade to get to the exact right color we’ve just got our heart set on?
I look at the photos and all the grays somehow just look the same to me. What am I missing, I always wonder?
There was a time when I ate breakfast foods for breakfast, a sandwich and such for lunch, then the big meal was supper, where you had meat and potatoes and vegetables.
As I’ve gotten older, I might want pancakes for lunch. Or grapes for breakfast. And veggies for supper. Or maybe I’ll eat a bowl of cereal. The food cops haven’t ticketed me yet. So I’ll just go on and eat a hodge-podge of foods and not worry a bit over it.
I once thought that buttons belonged in a button container and a set of measuring spoons belonged in a drawer.
But as you know my flatware resides in two bright red plant pots. Because one day it just occurred to me that it was sort of boring to have to open a drawer and take a spoon from the food section. A fork from the fork section, and so on.
Maybe I’ve just gotten more contrary. I abide by a lot of rules, but at this point in my life I kind of take pleasure in swimming against the tide. Like taking off the cabinet doors and just letting the dust go willy-nilly without even caring.
Because if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? Or if you take your cabinet doors off and don’t look at the dust, is it really there?
So you folks who are afraid to take your cabinet doors off because you’re worried about dust, I have an answer for you. Use the same few dishes all the time, the ones that get washed every day. And don’t worry about the dust that might be hiding on all the others till company is coming and you’re going to be forced to use them.
I don’t know, because I don’t get out and about much, but I imagine it’s said that I’m the strange woman that had a perfectly good stove taken away. I imagine someone saw that and word got out fast.
Who doesn’t have a stove in their kitchen for heaven’s sake? What kind of a fool woman would do that?
That would be me. Ms-Divorced-Three-Times-Woman-In-Her-Fifties-Who-Lives-A-Hodge-Podge-Life. Kind of like the old woman with a houseful of cats that never invites anyone in and the neighborhood children are afraid to go there on Halloween.
Did you ever think that that old woman might have a house full of cats on purpose, and appear strange and a bit frightening because she just wants to be left the hell alone?
I imagine folks around here notice that I’m the woman who hums out on the patio while I tend to my plants. Who sings a silly song to the dogs while I’m clipping the roses.
That would be me. If I was in a classroom, my hand would shoot up straight because for once I had the answer.
I think as we get older, we just take on odd traits. Or maybe we’ve been odd all along, and were better at hiding it.
Or maybe we don’t really give a tinker’s damn what anybody else thinks and merely swim against the tide because we can. And then thumb our nose at anyone who scowls our way.
Do you ever think how many things a day we do because we can?
Like eat pancakes for lunch and not even want a full set of the same dishes if they cost a thousand dollars. I never owned china. Or had wedding showers. I was just always an odd duck. You know?
You might see me in another life walking along with a bunch of geese. Or trotting along beside a pack of dogs. And people will say: “What’s wrong with that odd duck running with a pack of dogs?
And maybe I’ll just quack and in duck language say that you should have seen me in my former life.