 Romance/Love: January 07, 2009 Issue [#2817] |
  Romance/Love
This week: Edited by: Fyn-elf  
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“One's own self is well hidden from one's own self; of all mines of treasure, one's own is the last to be dug up.”~~Friedrich Nietzsche
“A box without hinges, key, or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid.”~~J.R.R. Tolkien
“Our treasure lies in the beehive of our knowledge. We are perpetually on the way thither, being by nature winged insects and honey gatherers of the mind.”~~Friedrich Nietzsche
“There is more treasure in books than in all the pirate's loot on Treasure Island.”~~Walt Disney
"Free imagination is the inestimable prerogative of youth and it must be cherished and guarded as a treasure."~~Felix Bloch
"Remember children always,
so long as there is one small ember there will be life still within the fire,
it will take only one to feed it,
and offer the breath of new life to it!"~~wredgranny814
"And 'X' never, ever marks the spot!"~~Indianna Jones
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Treasure. Come with me on a treasure hunt.
It started with something I call a 'fotologe.' Think scrapbook meets large glass frame. My new sister-in-law requested one of these for her Christmas present. She wanted 'something Victorian' with hints of green for her newly repainted living room. I took that idea and decided to go digging in their old family photos figuring that I'd find children with solemn faces, dressed in long gowns, standing by velvet chairs. And so I did.
But I needed more than photos for my fotologe. I needed 'stuff.' 'Stuff' gives dimension and depth to the overall collage. So we went digging in the trunks down in the basement. These are the trunks pushed to the far back, buried under the accumulated belongings that one acquires, then no longer needs immediate access to. These were the trunks he'd never thus far, delved into since he hauled them here after his parents (well into their eighties) had passed away some time ago. Ah, but what wonders we found whence we went digging.
(Now, one must also understand that this was happening early Christmas Eve. I was running out of time. I was in a hurry. Hmmm, well, time expanded!)
For we spent unhurried hours, well into the wee hours of Christmas morning exclaiming over found treasures, wondering over the multitudes of 'What was THAT used for?' and (in my case) listening to the memories and old stories about this and that that he simply had to share. The 'other things' we needed to do were pushed off.
Santa would wait, or, if not, well, we were far too busy looking at old grade school graduation papers and albums of postcards (just then introduced) to even notice.
We found his mother's wedding gown, and her veil that must have been fifteen feet long. There were tiny yellow flowers sewn all over the headpiece. One fell off in my hand. Something for the fotologe.
We discovered old calling cards. Do you know what they are? They were small, printed cards, one presented when they went calling at someone's home. Something along the lines of a voice-mail now-a-days. His mother's cala lillies, pressed and dried from her wedding bouquet in 1939. Something else to add.
Shoe hooks, and Victorian fans, and silver spoons worn from use. Hat pins, broaches and a cameo. A notebook of family expenditures that covered some forty years. "Boughten bread--a dear five cents," but unexpected company was arriving. A carefully wrapped bit of ribbon to reuse, and then forgotten. A string of pearls added one at a time over the years--never finished off, never actually worn.
Time reversed itself and we waded through over a hundred years of history as treasures lay in my lap and stories filled my ears. Reality sent us scurrying back to the now as my long overdue daughter and her other half finally arrived from festivities at his end. It was two in the morning.
The fotologe was duly finished. See, here it is.
Ahhh, but we weren't done quite yet. You see the bug had bitten and we were compelled. For there was the closet in the spare room that, too, held items placed there when he moved in. Locked boxes sent us on a key hunt. We found the keys and then found more treasure.
Birth certificates from the late 1800's. Land grants to the family farm from1846! A mother's ring that had been lost. . .now found and returned to his youngest daughter amidst tears of joy. His adoption papers--now we know how his birth name was spelled! (And can now prove to Social Security that he really is fifty-six and not younger!) Drawings that the great-grandchildren (our grandchildren) had drawn for birthday and other presents. Birth certificates of two sisters that, sadly, lived only a few days. Time spent wondering and dreaming. Tears and joy we found in those boxes.
Treasures. Histories. Memories.
Priceless.
I couldn't sleep last night for all the stories that we dug up. For all the myriads of details that spun, glittering brightly, begging for words to bring them alive once more.
So I offer a suggestion for when the muse deigns to sleep: Let it dream and you go dig through all the treasure troves you have lying about; the 'stuff' you've (or your parents or grandparents) tucked away and then forgotten about as current affairs of life kept you spinning madly. Take a moment or a day and remember. Experience these bygone moments yet again. And then, bring them back to life!
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franci writes:This newsletter ended with quite a surprise.
Everyone is hunched over, wondering what will happen to them, how they will go on. Life will have its way, as you said. I never thought of your comments though, that the upcoming challenging times will provide food for the hungry writer.
Perhaps an author can lead the way with a story that rocks the world. This is a time of opportunities. Your insightful comments make this newsletter a winner.
Thanking you!
JACE  offers:What awesome words of truth and encouragement this month, Miss Fyn. I could swear you were writing about me and my family--jobs, daughter's wedding, etc. And you are so right--we will get through this year because we want to, need to, have to.
Ah, there really is a bit of the 'everyman' to my tales and newsletters that I spin....
And there really is no option...thus, one way or another, we will get through!
Lauriemariepea  writes:well said, good lady. and "moxie" is one of best words. *Big smile* thanks for a heartwarming newsletter.
You are most welcome and yes, "moxie" is a big favorite of mine and something, I think, we shall all need in the future!
Katya the Poet says:I LOVE the sound of optimism and stick-to-itiveness and LOVE in your newsletter!
thanks :) It is appreciated!
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