Junk Room

Some people have junk drawers. I have a junk room. In fact, somewhere in the midst of my junk room is my office. Yes, I work amidst stacks of stuff....some of it will be sold on eBay, some of it will go in a yard sale one of these weekends when I get organized enough to hold one, and some of it...well, let's just say I'm not really sure about its final destination.

Today I got a little bit ambitious and tackled a couple of drawers that had been driving me crazy....you know the ones; they won't quite open. You tug and tug and then try to slip your hand inside the tiny opening, only to scrape the $#@&% out of your knuckles on the way back out. Yes, I got inside a couple of these troublesome drawers today and found some things that simply made me shake my head in wonder.

My first find was a half dozen pairs of perfectly good, brand new pairs of men's underwear. Yes, they were "tightie whities" as my kids call their dad's skivvies. I think I bought them for him about a year ago, but he wouldn't wear them. Wrong size? No. Wrong style? No. They were Fruit of the Loom and he prefers Jockey. Isn't underwear just underwear? I can't see any discernable difference until I look at the tags and see little fruits staring back at me in their colorful glory. He can't be bothered by the fruit. He lives here in this house and we're...well, fruity would be a kind way to describe many of our home's occupants.

Another find was a black men's Speedo bathing suit that a friend of mine (and a very good one at that) thought would make a hilarious gift for my husband. Yes, hubby does have an outstanding sense of humor, but it often gets a little carried away. What my friend didn't realize (or maybe she did, and the joke is actually on me!) is that my husband....not caring in the least what other people think, and loving nothing more than to get a good rise out of me...will one day wear the darn thing. And I'll forever live with that image in my fragile mind.

I found ugly scarves from many years back and I found a purse that actually was once a living, breathing baby alligator. It had somehow been fermented or dried and cured, then tanned....I'm not sure of the actual process, but it was completely disgusting. And then I found something that resembled a skinned and gutted rat, with clips on each end. I think it was actually once an ermine, and had suffered a fate similar to the poor little alligator. These last two items were my late mother-in-law's and I'm ever so grateful I never witnessed their existance while the poor lady was alive. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I found them today, and then shook my head in disbelief that someone would actually want to own these things. These two can't even go on eBay or in a yard sale. PETA would be after me in an instant.

Tomorrow I may brave another drawer or two, unless some other part of our home calls out for my organizational skills. There's plenty of junk in the rest of the house, too. However for some unknown reason, the most peculiar items wind up here where I write.

I have no right to ever claim writer's block!