Reading in bed is the perfect way to end my day. For one thing, it gets my mind off of the worrisome chatter that goes on inside our heads and, for me, that sets the stage for a good night's sleep. And, I love reading short stories and buy any book of short stories I can get my hands on. Anyway, last night I was reading a story about the Hands of God, fiction of course. The story told that when God was creating the birds, an angel flew by Him and asked God to put wings on this creature like the wings of the angels. God thought that was a neat idea, so He did. This morning as I listen to the birds singing, I can't help but think about that story.
Yesterday we were in the garage scoping out the huge cleaning project that awaits us one of these days...or years. Packed away in a corner I spotted an old box of bottles. We took them out and hosed them off, cuz there's lots of years of cobwebs and gunk in them. Four were the old-fashioned blue fruit jars with the glass lids and wire tops. And, a really tall bottle, like a vinegar bottle, that has a wire top and cork-like thing still intact. I just love finding things like that and wondering where they came from and what they actually were used for.
There was a television program on one time that featured finding things, like bottles. They said the best place to search is where the old out-houses used to be. Because years ago people would throw their empty used bottles down the hole. Naturally, this isn't the most appealing thing one wants to do, but serious collectors who are adventurous would put on the right clothes and gloves and get to digging. I'm just a little afraid there's a little bit (or a whole lot) of that in me. Something inside me wants to look for stuff from the past. I'm a treasure seeker. And, just imagine all the treasures that are buried in the very ground beneath us.
Whenever we drive past an abandoned farmstead where the house is still standing, my mind starts wondering and imagining what might be inside the abandoned house. I have a metal detector down the basement, but haven't had it out for awhile now. Metal detecting is great fun, and when it starts beeping, my heart starts beeping in rhythm with the detector. I've found old nails, spark plugs, and a dime. That's pretty much the extent of that hobby. Now when I think about it, I think I'm going to buy a new battery and fire it up again.
My trouble is that I have too many hobbies, and in order to satisfy all of them I'd have to live at least three or four long lifetimes. The only thing I can compare this to would be the embers still burning after a campfire and all of a sudden one of the sparks ignites into a fire. Well, that's what it's like for me if I find something I think I can do or re-create. I get all nuts about it, buy the supplies, and then have to see if I'm actually able to do whatever it may be. I'm not one who believes in reincarnation, so I figure if I want to do it, I'd better get crackin'. If my attempts are successful, that's great. If they fizzle, who cares. At least I've tried.
Wonder what label a shrink would put on me. Would it be Project Enhanced or Project Challenged? Hmmm. Another thing for me to ponder.