Stories in Clutter
First, there is the collection of medallions on strings hanging from my dresser. The fancy awards, with fancy danglies that I almost never wear, sit side-by-side with pewter tokens from pilgrimages to recent events. I remember once again that I want to make a shellacked gingersnap and hang it here. But no luck.
Into the dresser I go, pulling out the now-tangled full collection. Medallions that Must Be Worn At All Times from past Pennsics. Lots more pewter. The beautiful and never-used CRC badge that I had bought just before the Company was disbanded. A Failsafe Key that has gotten confused about which activity it is associated with. The crowned I, still waiting to be sewn on just the right piece of garb. But still, not the item I want to be wearing tonight.
Downstairs, to the garb dresser in the basement. Despair is rising, because this is mostly her stuff not mine: duplicate Pennsic medallions, and a Pelican Of Ususual Size (well-suited for opening beer bottles). But here is a road sign that there is still hope, in the form of a Laurel cloak clasp that I haven't used in many years, since the cloak in question had been pierced so many times that it was more hole than wool. Bits of myself have gotten mixed in down here.
Finally, in the furthest corner of the very last box in the basement dresser -- my last shot before giving up -- I find it. A tiny but elaborate tankard, hanging from a faded green cord, that I haven't worn in much too long.
"We Are All of Us". I raise and wear a cup in honor of a friend, who elevated hospitality as a cardinal virtue. As we remember him today, let us equally remember that which he promoted among us: inclusion, friendship and kindness to those we are with...
Into the dresser I go, pulling out the now-tangled full collection. Medallions that Must Be Worn At All Times from past Pennsics. Lots more pewter. The beautiful and never-used CRC badge that I had bought just before the Company was disbanded. A Failsafe Key that has gotten confused about which activity it is associated with. The crowned I, still waiting to be sewn on just the right piece of garb. But still, not the item I want to be wearing tonight.
Downstairs, to the garb dresser in the basement. Despair is rising, because this is mostly her stuff not mine: duplicate Pennsic medallions, and a Pelican Of Ususual Size (well-suited for opening beer bottles). But here is a road sign that there is still hope, in the form of a Laurel cloak clasp that I haven't used in many years, since the cloak in question had been pierced so many times that it was more hole than wool. Bits of myself have gotten mixed in down here.
Finally, in the furthest corner of the very last box in the basement dresser -- my last shot before giving up -- I find it. A tiny but elaborate tankard, hanging from a faded green cord, that I haven't worn in much too long.
"We Are All of Us". I raise and wear a cup in honor of a friend, who elevated hospitality as a cardinal virtue. As we remember him today, let us equally remember that which he promoted among us: inclusion, friendship and kindness to those we are with...