Tag Archives: Socks

Downsizing: Goodbye to the Land of the Lost Socks

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Our house isn’t officially on the market, but a few weeks ago, a realtor asked if we would show it. Sure! Knowing the house hunters might walk into our walk-in closet, we set to work. Cliff gave up four pairs of old basketball shoes.

So I decided I could do it. I could shut down The Land of the Lost Socks. This basket, which lived on the floor of the closet, held wayward socks for thirty years. At one time, little girls socks lived there along with mine. (Cliff never loses socks. In fact my mother-in-law once said to me, “How can you lose socks?”)

Anyway, every few months, I’d dump out The Land of the Lost Socks and find some pairs. What a happy, satisfying moment when a pair was reunited.

But what to do with a sock whose missing partner never shows up? How do you know when it’s time to chuck that lost sole (soul)? And how DID I lose these socks?

These questions troubled me for years. But no more. The Land of  the Lost Socks is gone. All remaining stray socks have been given a proper burial in the kitchen garbage. The basket is now at the new house waiting to hold potato chips or napkins for a cookout.

I’m not sure what I’ll do with stray socks in the new house. Maybe I’ll lead a life so perfect, so orderly, that I’ll never have a stray sock.

Ha. Most likely not.

What about you? Do you lose socks? Do you have a Land of the Lost Socks?

And this socks discussion brings me to one of my favorite poems, written by yours truly:

Socks don’t lead

An easy life.

Missing partners,

Sweaty feet, and

Hours squinched

In tight quarters.

Yet I never hear

My socks complain.

Maybe I should be

More like socks.

Complaining less,

Absorbing more,

And ever ready to

Step into shoes

For the next adventure.

 

My poem, “Socks,” was published in Tangerine Tango: Women Writers Share Slices of Life, edited by Lisa K. Winkler.

Photo: This is The Land of the Lost Socks basket. The socks are fake news. I added them to the empty basket for photo appeal when I decided to write this post.

Giveaway Winners: Congrats to the latest winners! Joyce, who won the Golden Books; Linda who won How Did This Happen? Poems for the Not So Young Anymore; Karen, who won The Deepest Acceptance: Radical Awakening in Ordinary Life; and Dawn, Vickie, and Sandy who won tubes of SYLK.

My Non-complaining Socks and Me

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A few years ago, I decided for Lent, to give up complaining.

WOW!

Talk about an eye opener.  I bit my tongue many times over those forty-some days.  What happened though, was a small miracle.  I found myself, toward the end of Lent, barely trying to complain.  The thoughts didn’t even bop into my head, much…

Not complaining left space for  thanking, joking, analyzing, admiring, praising, listening, and singing.  (I don’t have a great voice but happily husband Cliff never complains unless I sing the same song ad infinitum.)

And not complaining inspired this poem, titled “Socks:”

Socks don’t lead

An easy life.

Missing partners,

Sweaty feet, and

Hours squinched

In tight quarters,

Yet I never hear

My socks complain.

Maybe I should be

More like socks.

Complaining less,

Absorbing more,

And ever ready to

Step into shoes

For the next adventure.

I hope you won’t complain about my pun, but  I have to say that menopause socked it all to me.  I’m  finally getting  that life throws us punches; that not everything is fair; that yes, there’s plenty of malfunction in the world; and that complaining IS optional.  Time is short and why spend it as an old grump.

What about you?  Do you find yourself complaining more or less the older you get?  And what lessons have you learned from your humble socks?