Being named the “Patron Saint of Just One More” is NOT an actual goal of mine but when I read the writing prompt today: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/leaving-legacy/ I wasn’t actually considering what I WOULD like to be remembered for but more what I would PROBABLY be remembered for if those who knew me lingered on. It has been a mystery all of my life as to why I NEED just one more of…just about anything.
In childhood my Dad would take the family out for a weekly Sunday afternoon ride. Mom and my sister would climb in the car as I struggled behind them, arms filled with reading books. Mom and Dad would just look at each other as I stacked them at my feet. In reality I guess I knew I’d never be able to read them all before we returned in 90 minutes but that ‘just in case’ mentality had already taken hold.
I do believe I come by it honestly, however. In our family, Grandpop was known as the ‘sugar hoarder of 16th’. It started during WWII and continued for years beyond. There was nothing weird about PopPop…he was just a good ole boy who loved the sweets his Scottish wife was famous for making. His solution was ingenious and practical. His backyard shop was heated with a pot bellied stove …two of them actually. The one that kept the shop warm had a blacked pipe that went to a vent in the roof. The other sat behind the shop door with a stove pipe that ran up to the ceiling and along the 20 foot length of the shop. I’m not sure if anyone noticed it or not during those days of rationing but one stove never was hot and the pies and puddings kept coming from Mrs. Thompson’s kitchen. In the mid-50s he showed me what was left of that hidden stash. He popped off a section of pipe and lifted me up to see the endless bags of sugar running the length of that stove pipe. I wasn’t old enough to count but certainly old enough to realize that this wasn’t where the sugar was kept!
Through my childhood and teen years there were other instances where just one more reared its ugly head. The most memorable was the secret stash of cosmetics I started collecting long before I was allowed to wear lipstick. I’m sure Mom realized she had not sanctioned red lipstick for my 8th grade picture! During my years of marriage it has been a problem only when it effected our way of living as in the case of “Nine Lives”.
My husband and I are devoted pet lovers. While we’ve always had a dog or two or three we are really cat lovers. Our first cat arrived 13 years ago after my daughter tried to sneak a kitten into her dorm room. It has been added to slowly by kittens who have stumbled out from under woodpiles meowing pitifully when Momma cat took off for parts unknown. And then there have been the injured strays and kittens in boxes left to starve. Each one has brought its own kind of joy and our tribe has grown to eight indoor cats. Looking back on how they arrived at my door I should probably be applying for sainthood in the Save a Cat category. But an instance of “just one more” finally made me realize that even I had to set limits on my collection. She arrived in all her princess-glory waving her big fluffy tail and blinking her gorgeous aqua eyes. When my friend showed her to me and begged saying “Nine Lives”…I folded like a cheap umbrella. But her stay was short and she left missing a part of her left ear. At that point I did learn that ‘just one more’ cat is not a good thing when the balance of personalities is stable!
Still today I struggle with that “Just One More” mentality as witnessed by my 3500+ books in Kindle and my 20,800 pins on my 93Pinterest Boards. Even with my Photoshop & Lightroom I have an excess of brushes, presets and gradients but at least that only required me to add 4 TB of memory…and they do not take up space in my physical life. So just kick me in the can and call me the Patron Saint of Just One More. I don’t personally know anyone who deserves that title more.