Old Things

I have a thing, for old things. Perhaps the older you get, the more you embrace old things. Who knows for sure on that. I like old things like my grandmother's engagement ring. My great grandmother's china. Old dogs. Old friends. Old terracotta pots, old hanging baskets. 

Here's the thing about things you've had for a while. Some you can easily part with, some you hold on to, indefinitely. Until a season in life that you get them out to enjoy them again. That's the important part. Enjoy them. 

When my kids were little, I'd get out the good china and make them a snack plate. It was much like a charcuterie board. Minus the board, the salami roses, specialty mustards, olives and fancy cheeses. It was a little bit of this and that from the fridge. They loved using a fancy plate. I hope when they have kids, they will do the same. 

I have a hanging basket that hasn't been used in 11 years. It's travelled to three towns with me, took up space in 4 homes. Last year it made it out of the garage and as far as the patio. I'd hold it up and look at it from time-to-time. Pondered where I might put it and set it aside for the time being. Sometimes we hold off and wait on things, sometimes we take action. 

It has a vintage looking bracket, and a lovely shape. Couldn't even tell you where I got it from. I'm thinking from a place I worked at in the late '90's. It has always spoken beauty to me, so I saved it. Today I got out the drill, mounted it on the fence and planted flowers in it. I planted joy in my heart just by using it again.

Maybe take a look at your old things and use them. If you know you'll never use them pass them on. If you already use them, feel the joy. Maybe it's an old ring, or old china. Whatever your favorite old thing might be. Share the story of them with someone. Share the joy. Make things a little fancy. We could all use a little fancy in our lives. 

More Than Enough

I'm guessing that each of us has childhood worries that follow us wherever we go. Some of us have processed them. Some of us are a work in progress. Some have stuffed them deeply and aren't consciously aware of them. Yet they impact who we are and how we live life.

For me I wonder if I'll always feel alone and will I have enough. Even though I feel alone, I'm not, never have been. But how does one define enough? What is enough sleep, enough money, enough plants, enough dogs? I'm a pro at going without to make sure I have enough. How ironic.

The gardener in me gets a little edgy this time of year about not having enough plants even though all my pots are full, and my garden is planted. I had a tomato plant take a turn for the worse this week. Now I worry what if all my tomato plants do that. How can I go through a summer without home grown tomatoes? Valid concern, right? Not at all anal or based on irrational fears. Nonetheless, I bought a 4 pack of tomato plants today to meet that need. Plus, to help the local nursery as it is close to end of season. I had to help them have enough sales, you know? I don't need 4 more tomato plants. I only planted two of them. The two leftovers must be Catholic for the amount guilt they are giving me. 

The beauty of life is that all my needs are met by the big guy upstairs. The times I didn't think I could pay the bills, I did. The times I thought I didn't have the strength to move forward I did. The times of emotional pain found healing. The year I moved 3 times, took a new job that was awful, depression made me a complete mess, the pandemic hit, and I had dogs cross the bridge, I survived. I grieved deeply, but I survived. Because I had enough even if I couldn't see it.

As I release this worry, I see how much I have if I let go a little. Or on my brave days, let go a lot. I have enough, more than enough. I may feel alone, but I'm not. I've got enough, and some to spare. If you need an extra tomato plant, let me know. If you need some faith to get you though, I'll share. If I end up with more tomatoes than I can ever eat, so be it. In the end, enough is a blessing I didn't see coming but will happily count.