The husband next to me did not stir. Until the following morning when he saw the closet doors bulging. The rule I set in our home is no talking, no sudden movements and most certainly no loud noises until after the second cup of coffee. Which he respected, and then it came…
Apparently, I have too many clothes. I cannot believe that otherwise I would not have been holding my head in my hands wondering what to wear to Christmas parties this season. The bar that fell was beyond repair and the holes in either side of the walls were enormous, puffing out bits of plaster relieved of their responsibility to carry so much weight. There was no time to find a replacement. So my clothing sat on the floor and I could only ferret out a skirt and a sweater which I wore Christmas Eve and Christmas day and the next day until stores opened back up. The guilt I felt for my few pairs of shoes buried underneath the rubble unable to breathe was acute. And then I felt guilty about feeling guilty over shoes when there are so many unfortunate and real situations in life that I should feel guilty about. Everyone surely has one or two, three or even four pairs of shoes -- the kind that are so fabulous to the eye and cost beyond anything reasonable. The kind you simply cannot financially justify splurging on, but you do, contort your face and look away as you hand the credit card over to the sales clerk.
I shoved everything back in the closet. The next morning, the husband said I have too many handbags. It was the weight of so many handbags that caused the rack to topple over. That simply is not true.
Street in Elora, Ontario after an ice storm – photo taken sometime between 1900 and 1919 by John R. Connon (1862-1931) was a professional photographer and inventor of photographic equipment active in Elora, Ontario in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
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