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Missing spaghetti must be in hiding with missing gifts

August 24, 2008
By SANDY MICKELSON, Messenger staff writer

My spaghetti is missing.

Not leftover cooked spaghetti gone from the refrigerator, but the stick spaghetti waiting to be boiled. Gone.

I can't even ask how something like this happens - I know how it happens. I moved it. Took it off the kitchen counter when I was clearing space for a dinner party and tucked it away in a safe spot.

Oh, how I hate that safe spot in my home. It already hides a large number of gifts, keeping them safe and out of sight, and now it's chowing down on my spaghetti. I hope it chokes.

Sure, I could go out and buy another spaghetti jar, but that would give me two jars and just how, I ask, will that help me get rid of stuff? And I really am trying to get rid of stuff.

When my sister, Suzan, came from Torrance, Calif., recently, she went home with three paintings off my wall. Her husband went home with the paintings, really. They were big ships at sea, painted by his family friend, Henry Bernal.

We'd bought the paintings years nearly 40 years ago when we were out in sunny California, and I'd made this nice little cove of sea stuff at the end of our hall. There's a sailing ship that's only slightly dusty. Our barometer is shaped like a lighthouse, and I figured out a way to hang half a humongous oyster shell on the wall. Our friend in Oregon put that oyster on the grill until it steamed and popped open.

Well, yes, the shell has been cleaned. Walt did it.

I've tucked a bunch of rocks from Lake Superior around the ship and added a few pieces of tiny driftwood from Lake Michigan.

I love the ocean and all things water-related. Except the smell of the docks along Lake Michigan when the fishing has been good. Usually the lake breeze helps with that, but it can get gamey.

Have you ever done a relaxation session where the person in charge tries to send you to your peaceful place, the place where you feel safe and happy? I go to the ocean. Sometimes a cute little stream in a mountain meadow, but always to water.

I love the water. So my hallway sea cove soothed my spirits every time I walked by, even if I'd only had it together for about two weeks.

It was a nice little sea cove. Without the paintings, it doesn't look quite so good, so I've got a plan. I'm going to make a wall hanging using water fabric and lighthouse fabric. Fabric that looks like water and fabric printed with lighthouses.

That's my plan; who knows when I'll get around to it?

For years I used that reasoning about stuff: who knows when I'll get around to it? Then some - well, some person - handed me a round disk of wood with TUIT written on it. Then I had a round tuit, and I had to do whatever it was I'd planned.

I hid that round tuit. I'm betting if I find my spaghetti jar and all those gifts, I could also find the tuit. If I do, I'll hide it again. That only seems right.

So long friends, until the next time when we're together.

Contact Sandy Mickelson at (515) 53-2141 or



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