Donations

Many generous people in our community drop off donated items at my home. Don’t even always know who is doing the dropping. Could be clothes, household decor, toys or linens.

They do this because it helps them clear out their homes. And they also want to help others in the process.

My friends and I will send the donations to the refugee center. Or we will sell the items at our frequent garage sales with the proceeds supporting the refugee center and its programs.

It’s not always junk. Just things people no longer need or want.

Sometimes I receive things and I’m not even sure what they are.

There was the time my friend and I put aside a “camera lens” to see if her friend’s son would be interested in buying it. He was a photography buff.

We handled the lens more than once. I said to her, “It just seems so light.”

She agreed.

I think it was my daughter who finally set us straight. It wasn’t a lens but a coffee cup designed to look like a camera lens. LOL. You can google images.

I’ve had a few chuckles sifting through the boxes over the years. Like the time my friend, Lone, sent over some bags. She was donating a beach towel of mine!

My other friend received bags from two different families and found two shirts of her son’s and one of hers.

We’ve gotten valuable gold jewelry donated by mistake.

The sorting of it all can be overwhelming at times but it’s needed. Definitely needed.

One time I found a hand-written note. The donations were from a friend who was helping out a lady clear out her late husband’s belongings. I can’t remember if it was an expression of gratitude or what but I was glad I could return the note.

Or the photograph of my Australian friend and her daughter, who was a toddler at the time, taken when they lived in India.

Yesterday, a friend dropped off a bunch of bags in preparation for her move back to the U.S.

I sent her a text thanking her.

I also had to add, “And thanks for your son’s wallet loaded with Malaysian money as well as U.S. bills!”

You never know what you will discover.

This is where I veer off topic a bit.

I would later find out that while I came across this wallet my daughter had lost hers at school.

Called me from school to let me know. Was upset. The wallet had been our Christmas gift to her. So that bothered her but it was more about the contents. Which included her grandfather’s funeral card, a note from her Dad and photos of her loved ones.

We are pretty sure it’s been located so that’s good news. Waiting for confirmation.

But isn’t it strange that I found a wallet and my daughter lost hers at the very same time?

Weird.

Back to topic.

If you are donating items don’t forget to check those pockets. The pages. The bags. The everything.

Off topic.

If you do lose something-even if you aren’t Catholic-a prayer to St. Anthony won’t kill you.

When my daughter called to tell me about the wallet I said, “Say the prayer.”

She replied, “I will.”

I asked, “Do you know it? Say it out loud to me now.”

She said, “St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please come down. Something has been lost and must be found.”

I then let her off the hook. The telephone that is.

Hope you all find everything you are looking for this week!

JBM

 

 

 

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Buried

In my quest to be super organized and on top of things I am totally failing!

Except for getting my last Hepatitis A/B shot in today. Whew! Almost forgot about that.

But back to my organization. I thought I would get the house keys in order and nicely marked for the new owner. Front, back, and garage. It was going good until I inserted a key into the back door. And it now appears that it’s staying there for all of eternity. Won’t budge. I tried spraying it with WD-40. No luck.

Then I thought that I would finish up the house inventory. For insurance purposes I have to inventory every item being shipped either by air or by sea. So, I have been working on this, room by room, for the past few days.

Just so you understand. Take a look at the room you are in right now and think about typing in every item and its value into an Excel worksheet. Every item.

The directions were to “save” and continue to “save” as you proceed. I DID!

But this afternoon, I went to finish up the last two rooms and when I looked on the computer there was NOTHING there. All my work gone! Blank! Wanted to cry.

Then I figured, “Step away, Mary, step away. And go do something else.”

So I thought I would go out to the garden and dig up St. Joseph. For those of you who don’t know, Joseph is the man who will sell your house. Forget the realtor-that’s only a bunch o’ malarkey.

I suppose it is because Joseph was the original home builder. You bury the small statue of him in the ground. Say a prayer. And await the results.

Within forty eight hours I had two solid offers on the house. Cash money. Yeah, I’m a believer.

But once it does sell you are supposed to dig him up and bring him with you to your new home. He came with us from Dallas so I guess he will be traveling with us to Malaysia.

Except that I went out to dig him up and I couldn’t find him! I can’t remember where I buried him!

So, just for the record, you don’t have to worry about me ever “knowing where the bodies are buried” and turning on you. Nope, Mary will not even remember where the bodies are buried. You will always be totally safe with me.

Just wondering if 4:15 Pacific Standard Time is too early for a drink? I might just have to surrender to it. But only after I pray to St. Anthony to help me find St. Joseph.

Hope you all have a great weekend!

P.S. And if you have neighbors you don’t like then I would suggest (under the cover of darkness) planting a statue of St. Joseph in their garden. You’re welcome.

JBM

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