Distractions of a Cedar Chest

Do you ever spend most of the day cleaning only to look around and see that nothing is actually... well, clean ? That has been my day and it has by no means been a lazy day, but good grief. I might as well have spent the day on the couch doing nothing.

I woke up at eight.
Had two cups of coffee.
Spent close to an hour online with my mom.

Made a late breakfast or an early lunch, depending on your point of view.
Started laundry. Changed sheets. Cleared the floor of clothes and shoes.

Let the daughter dive into the cedar chest.

And that's where things got a little out of whack. You see, that cedar chest is full of treasures. Baby blankets. Baby pictures. Baby dresses. Dolls. Cabbage Patch Kids. My first pair of glasses, circa 1978.

We looked at pictures from my basic training, the husband's basic training, and our early years together. I pointed out that in both group pictures from my basic and technical training, I am standing by the very girl my husband-to-be dated in his high school years and was very much infatuated with. This little known fact came to light one day when he drove to my base to pick me up for a date. I let him in my room, finished doing whatever I was doing, and turned around to see a rather pale-looking face holding a framed picture and looking at me in disbelief. He asked me how well I knew the girl I was standing next to in the photo. Rather well, was my reply. He shook his head in disbelief and we moved on in life. To this day, we still laugh about that moment and wonder at the odds of such a thing happening. Considering we grew up a thousand miles from each other, joined two different branches of the military, and trained on two separate coasts... I'd say the odds are pretty slim.

So that little story, though retold many times before, was at least one distraction of the day.

We found a pair of crocheted baby shoes that belonged to the husband. A crocheted baby hat and sweater that came from a great-uncle. A crocheted stocking cap that was made by a grandma. Crocheted blankets. Quilted blankets. Embroidered blankets. School pictures. Report cards. Lots of construction paper artwork.

And still not a wedding album to be found.

I finally had to walk away, leave the memory feast to the daughter, and carry on with the laundry. I've yet to vacuum. We did manage to squeeze in the mandatory grocery run and hit up Sonic for happy hour. A strawberry limeade and sunny weather make a Saturday a little more complete.

Even if the housework is not.