When I was at the ranch this past weekend, the last two people I figured I would be reminded of were the Moms. My mom and my grandma, who we also called Mom (or Mom R. if they were both around.) Being that the ranch is definitely not their idea of anything exciting, I was actually quite surprised and a little touched when certain things reminded me of them.
There are these really small trees that don't last but a few seasons and then they die. Once deceased, they remain as these little grey wooden sculptures, that for some reason are so fascinating to me. I just love the way their branches and twigs intertwine and every time I see one, I am always reminded of Mom R. She was definitely known for scarring neat things from nature, especially in her own unique way. She was the type that would find different pieces of bark, hot glue it to a piece of cork board, frame it and hang it all over her house. Same with rocks. Ever wanted a frame full of rocks? We've got plenty laying around. Although it's not your typical piece of art, it was something very special about her, and I can just imagine her cutting down one of these small trees and planting it in a big pot as some other rare form of 'art.' Remember the quirky grandmother in Hope Floats, who decorates her home with what a taxidermist would decorate his shop? Same kind of thing, but with wood and rocks.
As mentioned in the previous post, we spent a lot of time this weekend trimming back trees. There are so many different kinds of trees, but my favorite to cut was the cedar. I love the smell of fresh cut cedar, and it made the entire place smell like Christmas. As soon as the scent drifted to my nose, I immediately thought of my precious mommy. She absolutely adores the smell of Christmas trees and it has become our tradition each year to go tree hunting and then decorate it together. I like to refer to her as the Tree Nazi, because she will spend FOREVER critiquing each tree, making the poor help uncut the netting of every tree in sight. We're not allowed to have a fake Christmas tree, because she says they just don't smell the same...even with that artificial Christmas scent spray. I remember the one time we were allowed to have a fake tree, and that was when I was a kid and she finally gave in to my annoying (I'm sure) begging for one of those frosted, glittery, fake white trees. Now that I look back, those are so disgusting, but I guess I liked it at the time. :) Anyway, ever since that disaster decorated our house, she doesn't care if you have allergies or not...she's getting a real damn Christmas tree!
Anyway, I just thought those were nice things that help me keep the ones I love on my mind, and then I started pondering what reminds people of me. Is it a certain delightful scent, scenery, a song? What special thing is attributed to me that puts a smile on people's faces?
As I was helping clean out Marty's tower stand, it hit me. I know what my 'thing' is. It's bobby pins. Freaking bobby pins! It's been about a year since anyone has been up in that stand, so the floor was covered in leaves, dead bugs, dirt, etc that has accumulated in the off-season, and so as I was cleaning it all up, I saw something shining in the middle of my dust pile. I picked it up and laughed, then put it in my pocket, although I don't know why...it's not like I would put that thing in my hair again! So that made me think about it. Everywhere I go, I find my trail I've left behind...my trail of bobby pins. In my purse, wallet, makeup bag, paperclip holder at work, in my car, in my work bag, in my jewelry case, at my parent's house, next to the bed, in the drawer of the coffee table, behind the kitchen sink, in my pockets, on the pages of my books (true story - they double as bookmarks too,) and apparently, even in the deer blind. I mean I keep them EVERYWHERE. I put on my slacks this morning, a pair I haven't worn since last fall, and sure enough, in my pockets were 13 bobby pins. THIRTEEN! Seriously? Did I wear these pants to prom or something, when I had a freaking warehouse full of bobby pins stashed in my hair? I don't know why...maybe it's my comfort zone. The funny thing is, if I find one, I hoard it like it's the only one I have. If you asked to borrow it, I'd probably make sure I got it back, because ya'know...they're so dang hard to come by.
So if you ever see one laying around, I've been there. I may not have been there in 13 years, but trust me, I've been there...and I've left my mark. I'm just so glad that I'm leaving a very significant imprint on this world. Effing bobby pins!
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