Nothing lasts forever, even my fabulous collection of wooden patio furniture. Remember when I carefully sanded and refinished everything in Evergreen waterproof deck stain? And how Sami’s second job was to reinforce repair or replace any part of these pieces that was in jeopardy? For everyone of these pieces, there came a point when it just wasn’t worth the metal brackets the new wood the replacements and I had to let this stuff go, piece by piece. The most painful loss was the Jack and Jill but now that I’m at the end of the road here, I remember how every single piece met its end.
You don’t see these on residential garbage piles anymore. When I got these pieces, they were things that others had already discarded. I gave them another life, and really enjoyed the crap out of them. Now it’s over and my life is diminished by the loss but enriched by the memory.
UPDATE: I forgot that I have one more piece left of the original collection: the lazy Susan that sat in the middle of the round picnic table. I covered the umbrella hold with the lid from a can of Contadina Tomato Sauce and used it on top of a big plastic flower pot to create a one-of-a-kind outdoor end table, which I have lately been using to hold a radio when I’m sitting or working outside. Mostly sitting.
FYI – I do not belong to a religious group that endorses “hymns” as set out in this use case.* In my religious peer group, hymn singing was strictly limited to the choir loft and was sung by a clique of bingo ladies featuring Agnes Tur___ski as the soloist and someone’s long-haired grandson whose garage band wasn’t making a go of it as the organist. It was a screech fest. Everybody else just listened, even if it was something you wanted to sing along with, like Adeste Fidelis or O Holy Night. You couldn’t. All you could do was listen to Aggie belting it out and prepare for the moment when she came up against a stretch that was beyond her skill and she lost the tune and couldn’t get back into it until the chorus.
I only know about this hymn from seeing Barney Fife and Aunt Bea spontaneously busting out with it on the front porch after supper. Apparently, I am in need of solace as I face the loss of my precious redwood companions. And not the kind of solace you’d get from Agnes Tur___ski.
VERY IMPORTANT FURTHER UPDATE – I am ashamed to say that I got my TV watching reference wrong here and people, i do not know how I could have made such mistake! Remember The Night. I love this movie – how could I have gotten this wrong? Must need more sleep. 😦
* I hang around IT people a lot now and they would rather die than use civilian term terminology like example so they consult me about use cases all day long.