Rainy weather forces squirrels into the attic; if you listen, you can hear them on the floorboards in the morning. And so I've joined them.
Digging out boxes and bags of accumulation and relocating it to the dining room for sorting.
It's like Christmas and Birthday and Moving wrapped into one.

Why in the world do I keep this stuff?
I vow I will only keep what we will use. Now and not later.
And then, I wax poetic over baby shoes, stick figures scrawled on paper scraps,
and old greeting cards.

The Orange sweater my grandmother knitted for me...
It's scratchy mohair and 3/4 sleeved--so Gramma knitted cabled orange cuffs and cleverly covered the orange buttons to attach the sleeve extensions.
I start remembering my country Gramma, how much I loved being with her, how she must have thought about me while she crafted this sweater and so on and so forth.

And then it occurs to me that if I had made the sweater and it ended up in a box in my granddaughter's dusty attic, I'd rather it see the light of day and be wrapped around a tough skin somewhere on somebody who LOVES to wear brilliant orange.

Now that's settled.
Until I realize that no one will care about my Gramma and that she made this sweater over 40 years ago--like I do. And that's the way it goes, box after box.

Ebay is a great invention. Someone somewhere on the planet is selling something every minute of every hour! You can't stump ebay. The trio of southern belle austrian crafted castile soaps--still wrapped and in the original box--there's a match on ebay. Someone's selling a Brio loom--just like the one I pulled out of the attic--and it's bid up to $150! I email this person in Sweden just to make sure it's a child size loom, and bingo! the little bit of weaving Jesse left on it looks like cold hard cash.

Suddenly everything looks green! I check out auctions for Chatty Cathy, Mr. Peanut, Pollyanna, and the Ginny doll still in its original box. 3 pairs of Ginny-sized shoes going for $46! The box alone will bring in big bucks!

Then there's Brenda. Who in the world would want Brenda, but me?
My intown grandmother sat her in a child-sized chair, waiting for my visit. Brenda went everywhere with me after that. With a bit of my whining, she was squirreled away in the trunk crevice of an packed to the hilt '59 Chevy convertible as it sailed across the plains and crept through Death Valley on its merry way to DisneyLand.
Even if I could stand to take her picture and post it on ebay, who would possibly want Brenda now, wrapped in paper, in her elderly falling apart condition? What would be her starting price? How low will I go?
Now I hate myself.

I get the first load out the door and over to Salvation Army before I can change my mind. It starts to rain again, and I think about my forelorn treasures, stacked on the SA back dock, exposed to the weather. I wonder if I should speed back over and cover it all up with a tarp? Then I glance around the dining room, wall to wall decisions yet to be made.

Nuts--all of it!

The year America celebrated its bicentennial (1976), Craig and I were houseparents for a group home of 6 kids. They ranged in age from 6-16, and lived with us until they could either return to their own parents or be placed in a permanent home.

On July 4th, we planned to drive to Craig's parents, an hour away, for a day of family fun and games.
His mom promised to fix his favorites: burgers, hot dogs, potato salad, and strawberry shortcake.
For breakfast that morning, I fixed eggs, and one of the whites was a bit cloudy, but I didn't think anything of it at the time.
Craig got so sick from eating breakfast, he could not bear to even watch the Tall Ships on TV. I was not yet crazy enough to go ahead with the trip with 6 challenging kids nor heartless enough to leave my sick husband to fend for himself, so we cancelled the outing.
Been missing that strawberry shortcake ever since!

Yesterday, I dug out my second year 4-H food manual (issued by our alma mater, Purdue University and Craig's former employer, Agricultural Extension Service) and beat up a Quick Butter Cake. Topped with sliced fresh strawberries, and vanilla pudding as a sub for the whipped cream I didn't have on hand, and yum! It will have to do!

Here's the cake recipe:

1 1/2 cups flour
1 cup sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 cup shortening
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 eggs
2/3 cup milk

Heat oven to 350 degrees for shiny pan, 325 for dark metal or glass.
Grease 2 8" layer pans or one 13x9x2 dish.
Sift dry ingredients into mixing bowl.
Add softened shortening and all the liquid.
Beat at medium speed or vigorously with spoon for 2 minutes.
Add unbeaten eggs and beat 2 minutes more.
Pour batter into pan and bake for 35-40 minutes or done when no imprint remains from a finger lightly touching the middle of the cake.
Remove and let stand in pan for 10 minutes before slicing and serving warm or turning onto rack to cool further.

For a brown sugar frosting, spread the top of the cake with soft butter or margarine, sprinkle 1/2 cup brown sugar and 1/4 cup nuts on top and put back in the oven for 5 minutes.