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Heartprints

Wash Baskets

Mary Mooney

Saturday, June 28, 2014 • 11:35am

Friday, June 27, 2014

Today I am grateful for wash baskets.  But first. . .“Where is your post today!” “I didn’t read it, yet.”  “What was it about?”  “I missed it.”  That was all I heard at water aerobics today because I got up late and didn’t do it before I left.  My peeps are starting to have an expectation.  Cool.  Very cool.  Then after that I had a rattle in my “new” car and I spent the day at the shop where I got it while 4 guys tried to figure out what it was.  It’s fixed, but this isn’t about that.  I’ll hit on that another time.  This is about wash baskets.

 

I hate getting a new car, mostly because I treat my car like a very large purse.  I hate changing purses, too.  Now I have to whittle down the crap I had in my bigger van (purse) and make it all fit into the smaller SUV (clutchette).  Grrrr.

 

It took three wash baskets, a large tote and a carrying bag to get all of the junk out of my old van.  Wow.  The van had a lot of cubbies and pockets and places to store and hide stuff.  I had no idea how much junk I had hidden until I started digging.  Holy Smokes!

 

I didn’t know I had a whole bag of lozenges!  Never mind they had morphed into one large lozenge.  I thought I was out of tissues and found four packets.  Oh there’s that coin purse I spent twenty minutes looking for that one day. A first aid kit?  Cool.  A sewing kit?  Cooler.  You never know when you’re going to need to mend something while you’re driving, gabbing on the phone, texting, doing your hair, putting on makeup, reading the paper or having a manicure.  There were three half-empty bottles of something, a Tupperware dish for water from when we babysat a dog. . .six months ago. 

 

I found four-thousand coupons for various restaurants we never go to, but it doesn’t matter because they expired in 2013 anyway.  I must have some sort of disease where you can never be more than a foot away from a pair of sunglasses because I found five pairs.  Five!  There were 400 fabric grocery bags, a pair of binoculars, a well-worn-falling-apart road atlas and two sarongs.  Yes, sarongs.  Don’t ask.  I found 20 odd pens and pencils, two sharpies and one permanent marker that I tore the house apart looking for one day.  I remembered to unclench the EZ-Pass and garage door gizmo.  Each compartment I opened was either like Pandora’s box or Fibber Mc Gee’s Closet!  Stand back!  She’s about to blow!  If you asked me to put all that stuff back I swear it wouldn’t be possible. 

 

I poked through the junk, one wash basket at a time, pulling apart winter gloves to see if they were trash or I just had them in there because I’m not too bright.  It’s the later. I did the same with the three small notebooks, flipping pages for something important.  I don’t guess I need directions to an address I never heard of.  Then I found a tiny book.  What’s this, I wondered.  I opened it.  A New Testament bible.  Seriously.  I didn’t buy the car from Car Sense so I know it didn’t get stashed in there by them.  I don’t remember ever putting a bible in there.  Neither does my husband.  No one knows how it got there or when.

 

I’m grateful for those wash baskets because they are going to help me get organized so my new, smaller purse. . .er car. . .is not a trash heap.  At least for a while.  And yes, I will find a spot for that tiny little bible.  I’m not sure why, but it has to be in there.  

Each and every day I find something to be grateful for. My gratitude's are heartfelt, personal, moving and often humorous. Facebook followers have encouraged me to branch out. I hope you will relate.

The opinions expressed herein are the writer's alone, and do not reflect the opinions of TheAlternativePress.com or anyone who works for TheAlternativePress.com. TheAlternativePress.com is not responsible for the accuracy of any of the information supplied by the writer.

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