What I Thought About When I Sat in My Closet

So as promised, I sat in my closet tonight to see exactly what I would think about if I had the time, a soft chair, and the inclination to sit in a closet.

The first thing that I thought about was shoes. Whew....hub needs deodorant in those things (he's not gelling; he's smelling)....then I looked at my own shoes ...mostly black....lots of walking shoes...and only a few high heels. A totally proper wardrobe of shoes ...which was...depressing. What woman wants to admits she owns mostly practical shoes?

I did have a much more eclectic collection a couple months ago. It included clear plastic high heels which I never wore (it looked like I stole them from Cinderella), shiny silver flats ( what was I thinking?) and some really naughty looking spike black high heels...which sadly didn't fit anymore (I now regret I didn't save them because I think they were involved in the conception of my last child.) These fun shoes are probably sitting in a Goodwill warehouse waiting their turn to be loaded on a cargo ship headed to Africa or the Far East soon. (You did know charitable organizations sell a lot of your donated clothes which end up in Third World Countries? )

Note to self: Liven up the shoe collection.

The next thing I thought about was money. A few years ago, I decided it would be a good thing to have a hundred dollar bill around for an emergency. Of course, with the kids, I thought it would be best to keep it out-of-sight.....so they stumble upon it and go off on some Pizza hut binge. Of course you know what happened....I hid the bill so well I 've never found it. I can't remember if I stuck it in a shoe, or in a purse, or under something. Even when I cleaned my closet out, I never found it. Yet it was in there someplace. Oh well, some day some woman at a Goodwill store will open a small secret pocket in a purse or pair of pants and have a nice surprise.

Realizing I was being very superficial and would have to admit that in my blog. I tried to think of deep thoughts....something like world-peace, uranium depletion, custom motorcycles. I was staring at the carpet...when I remembered! I revised the first story I ever got published right here on the closet floor. Really. My kids were having friends over, I was nervous because the submission deadline was the next day, and the story didn't read right. So I laid on the closet floor and read it out loud, revising it as I went along. Its something I still do...(read out loud not compose on the floor.) So I can honestly say.....I came out of the closet and started my freelance writing career.

But if I'm to be totally honest.....you know what I thought about the most? Yodelling. Really. A friend of mine who is a freelance writer, sent me this phrase earlier tonight:

I have had to take up yodelling for relaxation.

That was a startling thought and sentence. Where does one "take up" yodelling and why? I googled yodelling and found myself on one of those search engine black holes. Did you know yodelling is featured in Germany pornography? (But dang, I couldn't find any.) Did you know the most popular yodellers are Tarzan, Heidi, and Julie Andrews? Yodelling is more popular in the United States than in Europe. Have I missed something....do you folks in bigger cities have ads running for yodelling schools? or yodelling conventions? or yodelling meets?

Of course, I found ...what else? Yodelling videos.

http://www.metacafe.com/watch/178160/incredible_11_year_old_yodeller/

and a deeply disturbing 4 minute video with puppet clowns yodelling....I wanted to hate it...really I did....but at the 3 minute mark....I was laughing so hard....well I was almost....yodelling.

This video is rated D for disturbing and I won't be responsible for bad dreams, wet dreams, or any other negative impact this may have on a viewer.

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3119238096845809676

It's time to get out of my closet.

What's in My Closet

Hey....let's be fair....I thought I would take you on a tour of my closet. I admit I have a chair in my closet too....although I've never sat in it. For as long as I can remember ( and we have lived in this house for 10 years) my husband's pants have rested in this chair. Not the same pants, thank god, but every other day, one pair of pants gets moved to the laundry basket and another pair of pants takes its place....kind of like the circle of life....although Elton John might not have found pants as poetic to sing about...

I am not sure where I got this chair ....it's been in my life forever...I know I painted the chair black ( it was white originally...I guess to be more ice cream shop-ish)...and I know my daughter painted the stars and moon on it....but I've never had an ice cream shop....and its a bit too cutesy for me....but there it is.



This is what I call cute and scary. The little doll is Thumbelina. Really. Thumbelina. I got her when I was a little girl. She was in an Easter basket. I still remember going to church Easter morning and coming home and seeing her tucked into that funky green plastic grass. I wasn't too fond of dolls.....because I found playing house a bit boring....(I still do...lol)....

Thumbelina sat on my bed ....little girls were always supposed to have some type of doll anchoring their pillow on their bedspread. Thumbelina was a fine anchor. It didn't matter that I caught fireflies, grilled worms on our bbq, roller skated with the boys on my block or played cowboys and Indians....No one could accuse me of being a tomboy.... I had my obligatory doll on my bed.

Thumbelina nearly came to a bad end when my kids were little. Even though she was stored out of sight....my daughter found her and carried her off to play.....Suddenly, my daughter and son were screaming at each other....I found them having a tug-o-war ....with Thumbelina in the middle! I screamed at them to stop ....but Thumbelina's arm had already been ripped off. I almost cried....all those years I've saved her....and protected her....and there she was armless.

I found a big upholstery needle and some tough thread and sewed her arm back. Since I can't sew......I can tell youThumbelina looks like she visted Dr. Frankenstein for her reconstructive surgery. But I put her dress back on....stored her way up on the closet shelf....and now that my kids are teenagers....she seems to be safe.

The scary cow comes from my grandparents. It was in my grandmother's house for a long time even when I was a kid. It scared me. Look at it's feet. It never could stand upright even with those plastic shoes. There was a older man in my neighborhood who had a big metal and leather leg brace--my mother told me he had polio. I didn't know what polio was but I was sure scary cow had it too.



These are my free-range shirts. They don't live in a glass-enclosed cabinent. They touch one another, share lint and appear to be colored-challenged.

Tomorrow I'm going to sit in my closet and see what I think about. This will be a first.

You ain't from Around Here--or Yes, You're right I'm not a Southern Woman

Lordy lordy....I don't want to talk about Yankees and Southerners....or as we now politely call ourselves--Transplants and Natives. Oh no, to start a conversation on the differences between Northern and Southern women....would be very unwise.

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But I need to make a comment here.....I was reading an old copy of the home style section of a newspaper when I found a small blurb about what one woman considers her most cherished personal space.

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The Woman is a stay-at-home mom and lives in a ritzy neighborhood. When asked what's her favorite personal space the woman answered....her closet. Really....it's right here in print....I have proof.

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Apparently the woman's closet has "three crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, a French armchair and ottoman sitting in a corner and plenty....of glass doors that keep the dust off my clothes."

Okay you read that right......the woman has 3 chandeliers in her closet....crystal chandeliers and what's worse.....she sits in a big chair with her feet up and what? Stares at her clothes??? There is a picture of the woman draped over this elegant chair with an afghan tucked under her and her glass-enclosed cabinets with her blouses hanging in them in the background. Glass-enclosed cabinets....so dust won't touch her blouses. Looking at the picture, it appears there are lights in those glass-enclosed cabinets....so she obviously can see her blouses....because obviously when you have 3 chandeliers in your closet....you don't have enough light.....perhaps she sits there with a good book (or a Nordstrom catalogue) and reads by the soft light reflected off her clothes.

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And when she was asked by the reporter how she would improve this space...you know what her answer was? She would have a professional come in and organize her closet so she could find things more easily. Yes, I bet its real hard to find your blouses in glass enclosed cabinets with the light shining on them. Truly a job for a professional...but a professional what?....Is there such a thing as professional closet organizer? And how does one know the difference between a professional closet organizer and an unprofessional closet organizer? Might an unprofessional closet organizer allow her sleeves to touch? Or her hemlines to be arranged in a random fashion? Might her bras and panties touch?

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And finally, the zillion dollar question...what do you think about when you sit in a closet? Please someone tell me......