If My House Were Burning...

I'd save you!

As much as I try not to be, I can get pretty caught up sometimes in "things". Things can make me smile. They can bring a memory that has been tucked away in the back of my mind to the front, changing my thoughts and direction. They make me miss times gone by and often, special people that are no longer sharing my life.

My most important "things" don't always come with price tags. Many times they weren't even purchased. I've been blessed with many generous, thoughtful gifts in my life and many of those items are my "things".

Though I don't come from a particularly close, strong or tradition-based family, some of my "things" are family items. There's the Walker step stool. My grandpa Walker worked with wood as a hobby and in the early days, he made step stools for those getting married and having kids. Among your wedding or new baby gifts, you'd find a beautiful oak stool engraved by his shaky hand. Everyone has one. We've got three and they all get used...every day. Even though he's been gone for 10 years, his legacy lives on in those stools. My brother, Big, picked up the tradition so all new babies will be able to reach the sink as they grow.

I have this crazy blue porcelain bowl that we bought when we lived in Japan. You'd never know how much I love it because I keep it up on a shelf...hidden so the monsters don't have a chance at breaking it! (It's high too...they can't even reach it with a Walker stool!) I sometimes take it down just to hold it and stare at its beauty and remember our carefree years living overseas. It is interesting the things I love...the things I obsess about...silly.little.things.

At the top of my list today...the crazy guy from above...



...the table and chairs, loving built ten years ago (by Big) to match WB's jungle nursery. (Painted by his then-wife...I love the hair on dude's legs...and the overly worn map of the Congo.) It reminds me of my babies eating in my kitchen...of JB's knees popping as he squats down to sit in a too-small chair and eat dinner with Little Sister...and of how time flies when you are watching babies grow.

So...if your house were on fire, what would you grab? Have you ever been asked that question? (And, don't say your scrapbook, everyone says that!) This isn't a good question to ask me. Really, it isn't. I've come to realize that I probably won't make it out of my burning house alive, for there are too many "things" that I love.