Being Junk-Blind?

“We need to get rid of all this junk around here.  The place looks terrible!”  My husband was sitting in the doorway with his wheelchair, waving his arms as though I magically knew what he was talking about.  I didn’t.

“Come show me,” I responded, insisting he get closer to all the junk he was describing.  The king needed to come closer to his subject if he expected to get results.

He pointed out item after item.  It quickly became apparent the junk he was talking about was my projects or items left by the grandchildren without telling us what they wanted to do with them.  A pile of lumber I was saving to make the floor of my old ’72 Chevy PU.  He even wanted me to get rid of  the lumber and the pickup.  Can you imagine someone thinking a classic ’72 Chevy PU was junk?  Why, I drove it all the way down from Kentucky to Texas when my son got out of the Army.  And that stack of tires with rims still in them…a grandson left them.  I have no idea if they are good.  I can guess, or post a notice on the internet for him to come get them or loose them.  A stack of Gothic-style wooden windows…I’m making a gazebo out of them.

I pointed out to my husband large expanses of empty spaces where we had previously had a work day.  It looked great, I thought.  Maybe I was becoming the same as nose-blind in the commercials about stinky things; maybe I was getting junk-blind to my yard.  We live on acreage in the country, and I have most of my precious “projects” behind a privacy wall so the stuff isn’t visible from the front of the house.

I wondered why he was getting so particular all of a sudden?  Had someone teased him about my projects?   He didn’t seem to be very concerned about the stack of his clothing on the living room couch, waiting until he makes a trip to the cleaners.  Or those fishing poles propped up in a corner.  He hasn’t been fishing in several years…

“When you get all that taken care of, come back to me, and I’ll give you more instructions,” he said as he rolled into the house.

I laughed; I hope not too disrespectfully.  I’m always grateful for a little amusement.