Tuesday, August 25, 2015

The Iron Curtain

My husband has collected these 'artefacts' over the years of being here, painted them up black and they are always a curiosity draw for our Bed & Breakfast guests.  Last year they got moved from one side of the driveshed to the other, where they now reside.  Moving anything of DH's amounts to a huge invasion into what he considers his and where his things are placed.  World War 3 erupts...so the moving of his Iron Curtain took a bit of doing and a lot of sulking on his part.

I now have posted on my toolbar, something that never existed in my life 20 years ago, the URL for the Globe & Mail obituaries as we are at that age.  What I'm noticing now is that all the Mabels, the Berthas, the Wilburs are being replaced by names of my generation....hmmm, that's a message in itself. 
Rosey

2 Comments:

At August 26, 2015 at 4:41 AM , Blogger Laura in IA said...

Oh Rosey, could our DHs be related. I will not show mine this photo though I think it is a wonderful thing to do with these artifacts. We do not have a wooden building to mount them on and that would be the first thing on his agenda. Also, he is into the rusty, not painted look. Currently they reside in various 5 gallon buckets in the garage - at least the last time I looked. Oh, some were in a coal bucket with a rusted out bottom. I just shake my head and smile thinking about these quirks. I suppose some of my sewing tools could fall into this category in his mind, though the sterling silver thimbles are small and like jewels to me.

Also we are way ahead of you on the obituaries on the tool bar and DH has several listed since his retirement. Me, I am probably in denial or at least trying to remain optimistic.

 
At August 26, 2015 at 6:55 AM , Blogger RoseyP said...

Laura, I do not understand someone who eventually doesn't come to realize that someone is going to have to clean their messes up. Another foible is collecting plastic grocery bags. I washed himself's shorts the other week, thought the pockets had been emptied, found instead after the wash had gone through, 5 plastic grocery bags were lying there, thoroughly washed and ready to be hung on the line. I suppose we could keep going: Picking through and not being able to pass by some people's garbage, however, on the other hand, two black china dishes which were a donation through this means I now use constantly for serving fruit in for my B&B guests. Now to his computer desk which is getting piled up with papers and collecting moss on the messy surface: I'd rather die than have to face cleaning this up, says he. Me: Then you'd better pay for your funeral first because I can't afford it. And so it goes. Even 1-800-Got-Junk wouldn't touch his collection of 'stuff'. I'd think preparing for the next to end living arrangement by cleaning out our 'junk' would only leave room for more junk to come in and replace it. It grows exponentially to the space available.
Rosey

 

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