Welcome to A Garden Variety Blog!

Although my neighbors are all barbarians,
And you, you are a thousand miles away,
There are always two cups on my table.
--Tang Dynasty

I hope you, whomever you are,
will sit down "with" me for tea,
or flavored coffee or spiced cider,
and have a garden variety chat.
Now and then.
I am not so consistant about blogging
as I ought to be.
I *am* consistant about
drinking hot beverage
and the coffee/tea is always on the hob.

Come on in!

Monday, February 4, 2008

A Bowl of Crickets

What today's blog is NOT:

It is not a dinner menu.

It is not a recipe ingredient.

It is not the violin section of the local orchestra.

It is a looking back at my day today, with a very tired brain, sore knees and feet, and the feeling of being the sole caretaker of a greasy, dusty, backwoods antique and junk shop.

I decided to dust the high rail at the top of our kitchen divider, and the soffit over the kitchen cabinets. The rail displays a collection of birdhouses, a collection of railroad lanterns and an antique cast iron train. It is so high, Carrie has to stand on the kitchen counters to reach it and then has to pull everything off with a pole, so the year's worth of dust can be cleaned. Yes, we only do it once a year. But I have a telescoping pole with a feather duster on the end that I use to lightly dust up there each week.

The soffit is a little easier to reach but she still has to stand on the counters. If she ever moves away I'll have to go too, to a house with nothing much higher than my head that needs cleaning!

Above the soffit there were decorative popcorn cans (which I dislike and decluttered instead of cleaning), decorative wooden serving trays, Larry's kindergarten Conestoga wagon lunch box, various antique bottles and jars, mostly green glass, blue spatter ware, a cream colored soup tureen (wedding gift) and an antique mixing bowl that had belonged to my mother in law.

There were crickets in the antique bowl. The crickets appeared to be antique as well. In fact they appeared to be mummified. I don't think they were there when Larry inherited the bowl, but I could be wrong.

So, now everything is clean, and back in place and I have an hour of quiet time to meditate, dream or plan....and the only thing I can focus my mind on is "WHY?"

Why did the crickets choose the white bowl and not the soup tureen? Why didn't they curl up inside the train or take a ride in the Conestoga wagon? Why were they all together? Family reunion? Did one initially slide down the smooth side of the bowl and yell, "Hey guys! C'mon! New game!" Are they like lemmings, with a genetic ceramic suicide wish? Can crickets even climb 20 foot walls?