The Chair Without Distinction

I have few thoughts to share this week ("thank God!" you are probably thinking). My sweet husband spent the majority of our evening putting our upstairs bathroom toilet back in its allotted place. Now at least we don't look so trashy with a toilet sitting in our back yard, though perhaps it gave the neighbors something to talk about.  In case you are interested, a couple weeks back, the Dynamic Duo thought it really funny to flush not one, not two, but three Duplo Legos down. You do see the problem. I cannot even begin to share with you the antics that went into getting those blasted pieces of plastic out but I do believe there was some hoisting of the toilet on a tree limb, as well as threats of utilizing acid. Ultimately, our kind neighbor Tom was able to assist Jared in the retrieval of the final piece. It was a Duplo bee in case you were wondering.  Jared has a few stories and I am sure a few choice words about the whole matter. Personally I think he and Tom should have celebrated with at least a beer. But tonight, he and I did enjoy some Whitey's ice cream. The twins have been banned from the bathroom. Kidding. Kind of.

I found this poem weeks ago and immediately loved it because you do know of course that about every inanimate object that fills this house was more than likely bought at a garage sale, thrift store, church rummage sale, or given to us, though I cannot testify to either the usefulness or practicality of anything I drag home. But mostly I love the second stanza. It is my hope that I can become the the kind of person, and that our home can be the kind of home, which offers a bit of solace and comfort to all those around, friend or stranger, so that any burdens being carried might become a bit lighter. Peace and goodness on this Wednesday.  

The Chair Without Distinction
Luci Shaw

October 1, 2007

This, in praise of inanimate objects,
of the piece I brought home last year
from the church rummage sale.
A useful color in basic fabric,
a button missing among its worn tufts.
Sturdy, not graceful. Dependable,
not particularly easy. In a corner of
the room, out of the way, people sit on it
when the space gets crowded. They chat
with friends, coffee cups in hand,
then rise and move on without
noticing. Why should they notice.

Blessed are those who simply sit
and wait for people who need
to take the weight off their feet.

Poetry Wednesday