WHERE WEDNESDAY: WHERE'S YOUR SAFE PLACE?

 I thought I had this post set to publish Wednesday at 6 a.m. Clearly, I did not. I hope it works on Thursday.

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Most of us have safe places where we like to put important items. Then we can't remember where the safe places are.

One year Mother bought a blue girdle to give to my oldest sister for Christmas. She put it away somewhere. When it was time to wrap gifts, Mother wandered around saying, Where in the hell is that blue girdle?

She found it the following summer in an entropy-laden closet. She had looked for it there, but I think the blue girdle hid from her because Mother was as mean as a snake.

After my beloved Franklin died a couple of years ago, Dr. G and his staff sent me a nice sympathy card. Also in the envelope were Franklin's paw and nose print, and some of his soft, thick fur. 

I appreciated their thoughtfulness so much.

I knew I would want to frame Franklin's paw and nose print with a photo of him in the future, but at the time, his death was so recent and my mourning so painful that I decided to put the special items in a safe place. 

Months went by. I wanted to look into framing the items. So I went to get them from the safe place, which I was sure was a drawer in my dressing table.

They weren't there. 

I checked the drawers in the wardrobe, because the wardrobe could be a safe place.

Nope. 

The dresser drawers? It didn't make sense that they would be my safe place, but maybe . . . .

Nothing.

I asked Maureen (the dogs' Auntie Maureen) if she remembered what I had done with the precious Franklin items . She was here when the envelope arrived. Maureen suggested looking under the couch. Good idea. We were sitting on the couch when I opened the mail. If the things weren't under the couch, maybe they were stuck in the couch. 

Zero. 

Zip.

Nada.

I continued to search, on and off, checking every drawer and shelf in the house, until I was convinced the prints were gone. I must have accidentally thrown them in the trash.

Then a couple of months ago while I was cleaning up some stuff in the extra bedroom, my eyes rested on one of my filing cabinets and suddenly I knew the second drawer was the safe place. 

 I was so happy. It had only taken me two years to discover the safe place.

Now, how about you? Where's your safe place? Or safe places? Have you put something important in your safe place and then not been able to find it? 

I hope you didn't lose my oldest sister's blue girdle.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

P.S. Years later I mentioned the missing blue girdle and no one else in the family remembered it. They thought I was out of my mind. I am out of my mind, but that doesn't mean there wasn't a blue girdle.

He loved asking,
Can I drive you to the store, Miss Daisy Jane?