Everything Finds Its Place

Throughout our marriage, Lisa has gone through periods of collecting things. LLadro, Swarovski, and Hibel have adorn my homes for 46 years. There have always been a place for them in our East Coast homes. They worked.

One variant to Lisa’s collection occurred in the 80s when her parents moved from Jamestown, NY to Prescott, Arizona. She used to visit her parents with our kids, work being my excuse not to travel. Lisa and her dad were very close, and during those trips out to the hottest place in the Universe (I did visit once during a summer in the last century – 115 degree dry heat) he turned her onto Western, Native American leaning art.

So Lisa ordered this expensive set of six beautiful plates with different Native American historical figures, but there was just no where Lisa could find in any of our homes where they fit in with the rest of the decor. Her call, not mine.

So the plates sat in their individual Styrofoam containers for decades moving from one place to another and alway going into storage. They somehow ended up in Geppetto’s Art Studio when we moved out here seven years ago, and remained there ever since, even throughout this New Barn conversion. I came across them again yesterday evening while doing some fruit and veggie prep for Claire and Honey.

And while I considered where I would shift them next, I removed one of them from their now deteriorating containers and realized just how beautiful they were. I decided that if we couldn’t find a spot in the house for them, they would find their place here out in the beautiful, mystical barn with Claire and Honey, so I placed them over the makeshift personal space I have maintained, since I spend so much time there.

Reflected among the collection are shamans, chiefs, warriors and even one european. The artistry is mesmerizing.

The first week I arrived at Casa Claire I got a call from a very powerful psychic friend named Ginger, who told me my land used to be part of a larger expanse inhabited by the local Native American population, whose energy still permeated the property. She also told me there was the spirit of a local cowboy named James, who actually liked to come inside the house on occasion, and especially liked to sit on the stairs leading to the dungeon. Maybe that’s why I named the main character in The Claire Saga, Jimmy. Now these paranormal proclamations were not a far stretch given its Northern Colorado location. But I took comfort from the knowledge, because Native Americans respected nature and were caretakers of the earth. Similarly, I never felt an actual ownership of Casa Claire, my family are caretakers of this land for as long as it needs us.

This all came back to me as I went through the stack and realized that since I spend so much time down at the barn – sometimes to escape a now very noisy house – I would release their energy where it was meant to be, out here, out west, where they fit in perfectly.

And once they were all in place, I felt my own personal connection to that one corner of the barn. And when I looked over at their spot while I was doing my food prep, I spotted one other empty space that needed filling.

Now you fine, five readers will probably remember Jimmy Moran’s Brook’s Brother’s Bag where he carried his treats for the local creatures during his tours around the area.

My sister bought me shoes from Brooks Brothers when I first became a lawyer,and that is the bag they came in. Haven’t a clue what happened to the shoes, but the bag always stayed with me.

I recently made the decision to retire that bag, given I had repaired the straps more times than Posey used to darn Spaghetti’s socks, and there just wasn’t much handle left. And because this bag and its treats are part of what brought me and Claire together, I decided there was no better place for its installation than somewhere in the new barn.

In my Native American and literary corner, right over the old typewriter and the quill pen in its inkwell right beside it.

I stare over at that corner while doing my prep and let the energy inspire my next project.

So, in the end (if I go, I’m leaving here in a box), everything finds it rightful place and you always end up where you are supposed to be.

Of course, when I die, I’m certain the grans will swipe that bag and post it on eBay, citing this blog as its provenance. I hope they make a killing. But leave the plates. Like me, this is their final home.

Well, I need to get moving. I have an early appointment with Anna the Barber (the most talented Barber in this Universe, trust me) to make me look human for the guests who will attend Scarlett’s big birthday fete here at Casa Claire.

Don’t really care about the adults, but I hope the kids enjoy themselves. Georgie has a lot planned, including bouncy castles, water slides and a Fairy Treasure Hunt. I’m sure it will be magical.

But now I need to go cuddle some kitties and make my rounds.

You fine, five readers, sit tight and have that third cuppa while you decide if those weekend errands really need doing. Maybe you’ll just put up your feet and read a good book on this August summer weekend. The Claire Saga comes to mind and The Wise Ass is still a free Kindle download for you lucky Amazon Prime members. You know you want to.

But no matter what else we get up to, let us make today a great one.