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Ignore the Elephant

I'm ignoring the very large elephant standing in the middle of my life, more specifically in the middle of what I call my living room. I refuse to acknowledge him. And that's that. If I ignore him, he does not exist. I made the mistake of paying attention to him the past few weeks and he grew bigger and got nastier. So now I'm ignoring him. I hope you will too.


The elephant and its needs are the reason I haven't posted this month. Never adopt a hungry elephant if you can help it.

There's a sewing machine on the table under that plastic bag. And I flunked Home Ec in 7th grade by making a Very Bad jumper. Probably on that machine at breakneck speed, the night before my project was due. My mother, on the other hand, was a genius with this machine. I wore pretty little dresses and outfits back when you didn't have to wear the latest thing made somewhere overseas.


My father saw this for the first time last night and his remark was "Your Mother did this to you?" As if he had no hand in it. See, they're moving to Boston and had to undo 32 years of their collections of STUFF (eg. paper and plastic bags). Which my mother wasn't sure she could let go. So STUFF had to come to my house or it would all go to Boston. But we're ignoring the elephant today, right? He's tomorrow's problem...cataloging and disposing of STUFF. Supervising the cleaning and spiffing of an apartment and its subsequent sale.

I think I'll go mow the lawn.

If you're reading this part, you did not succeed in ignoring the elephant, as you were politely requested to do. Sheesh. No wonder he has such a swelled head.


In other news, my writing group started up again with a bi-weekly communal writing session. I missed the first one, but the second was held at my house, which is now a centralized location. Everyone ignored the elephant, but 10 days ago he was still pretty small so it wasn't much of an effort. I had cleaned so much of the three rooms we used that the cleanliness was as much of a topic as the elephant. With the elephant around, my kitchen counter had become buried under, you guessed it, STUFF.

I disposed of some of that by feeding it to the chickens. They like tomatoes. The woodchuck, it turns out, really likes pears and apples. All of which I had on my counter. Tons. It's a farm thing.

I made a bold decision to not work on something new or in process, but instead to blow the dust off of my "Stan" story and get it properly edited. The editing went really well that night. Then the elephant got in the way, but we're not paying attention to him. So I've only been able to edit a paragraph or two in the past 10 days. But I'm determined to get this one done because it's a story that's been workshopped more than once and is as done as done can get and is one of my more traditional efforts. That should be interpreted to mean it has a chance of finding a market.

Frog Out

Comments

( 8 comments — Leave a comment )
(Deleted comment)
birdhousefrog
Sep. 19th, 2007 07:15 pm (UTC)
Boggled, as in confused? Or boggled as in 'gee, glad you're dealing with all that STUFF and not me'?

My Dad would probably say that this is not one elephant, but many. White elephants. Things for which you have no use. Me, I look at this entire process of moving them as an elephant that has been getting larger and larger and larger in my life, eating up all my time for the past few weeks and a few yet to come.

Oz
(Deleted comment)
birdhousefrog
Sep. 19th, 2007 09:01 pm (UTC)
I had to promise I wouldn't do that to her hooking and braiding wools and works-in-progress for longer than I've been alive. Or her loom. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to promise about the sewing machine, but she moved her collection of threads and buttons. Go figure that one.

Bags of very expensive clothes and I expect to find a very nice tax deduction in those, though the place I wanted to give them is fussy and wants 'suits.'

Lots of glassware and sheets that I gave her from my excess STUFF years ago. Turns out I gave her used sheets 5 years ago and they stayed in a paper bag all that time.

A box of old christmas ornaments and lights. Badminton rackets and camping gear is still in my garage.

The Dude adopted a building jack for propping up a building. We don't currently have any that are in need of propping, but with that woodchuck, I guess it could happen.

Flamethrower doesn't quite cover it. I'm thinking explosives. Might be some in one of those bags.
(Deleted comment)
sarah_prineas
Sep. 19th, 2007 09:05 pm (UTC)
Yike! It's not just standing there, that elephant exploded all over you living room!
tcastleb
Sep. 19th, 2007 11:44 pm (UTC)
I feel for you . . . my mother just had to do that with her stuff, some of my stuff, and my grandparents' stuff and selling their respective houses. Ick. But if only I had a good graphics program to merge photos, bwa ha ha ha ha.

But, see, sights like that give me a terrible fear of stuff. Ah, for the good old days when everything I needed could be crammed into my car. . . .
jehanni
Sep. 20th, 2007 12:06 am (UTC)
OK, "the elephant exploded all over" made me think of that classic internet gem, whale.avi, in which the Oregon coastal Highway staff tries to deal with a washed-up carcass by dynamiting it....with small miscalculastion, and hilarious video results. Although it probably didn't smell good when you were there, as it were, "in the flesh."

I absolutely cannot throw stones, as my house looks like that without the excuse of the parental move: I believe I've a whole elephant graveyard.
( 8 comments — Leave a comment )