Scott City Musings: We all have keepers

When Marge and I got married, neither of us had much so we basically started from scratch. Little by little, we started to add this and that, some was Marge’s, some mine and some ours. Most of what we accumulated we kept. Some of our keepsakes were lost in a fire at Marge’s parents, one of which was Marge’s high school yearbooks. Bummer! Pretty much everything else traveled with us to Oklahoma, then Kentucky and then to Missouri. Some of the stuff we’ve kept we no longer use or probably never will. It’s just stuff. Some would say it’s junk and it probably is. Some would call it baggage! I’d have to call it old “collectibles or memories.”

We all have stuff like this that we pack along with us, especially if you move now and then. Dad gave me or I borrowed a few hand tools to take to junior college to work on my old ten-speed Schwinn. I still have them. Marge’s Mom gave us a cast iron Wagner skillet as a wedding gift so it’s well over 50 years old, but it was old when we got it. Still use it. I have a Bible that the Browns gave me for graduation from high school. Print’s so tiny it’s hard to read, but the Bible is just like the one that one-eyed Joe Porter carried. Somewhere I bought a nail puller like Dad used to have. Never use it but it brings back memories. One hoe we use is like the one Dad used to have. We’ve had it probably close to 50 years. Handle's shot. Bought an Evans utility knife back in Oklahoma that one of our boys sliced their finger with. Worn out but have to keep it. Memories.

Back in Nebraska, I bought a pair of Canadian Sorrel pack boots with rubber bottoms and leather tops. I’ve oiled the tops with Neatsfoot oil regularly for over 50 years. Bought several new pairs of wool liners and shoe strings. When we used to go out north of Bolivar, Missouri, and hunt deer I’d take those pack boots because I knew they’d be warm. One morning, our son and I went out with about 6 inches of snow on and temp was five below zero. I had the Canadian Sorrel’s on. Here in Scott City, my feet would sweat to stinking in them. Just store them anymore in a big plastic tote. Sure aren’t collectible. Junk! We’ve gotten rid of most of my heavy wool socks but, just in case, we kept a couple pairs!

The other day Marge mentioned she had an old small granite roaster which she never uses and probably won’t. Dad used to use a round whetstone where one side was fine and the other was coarse. I’ve sat and watched Dad strop away on that old whetstone for what seemed like hours. Had to get me one so got three. Have to keep them. The more I sit and reminisce the more stuff I remember that we have stored somewhere. Not sure where, but somewhere. If we don’t find it while we’re above ground, our boys will and most of it will go to either Teen Challenge or a landfill.

Odd how some things catch our interest and we get attached to them. I like certain cups to drink coffee from. Have to try them out for a week or two and see how they feel. Kind of like a pocketknife. I bought one at the MFA in Jackson and carried it a week or two and something wasn’t right. Haven’t carried it since. I might carry it if I was doing something rough and might break a blade.

Friends are kind of like this. We meet someone and are around them a few times and that’s enough. Not my kind of friend. On the other hand, you meet someone and are around them and deep inside you know it’s right. Not sure if it’s trust or personality or character or honesty or whatever, but you kind of want to keep them around from then on.

Just me,

Rennie

Phillips began life as a cowboy, then husband and father, carpenter, a minister, gardener and writer. He may be reached at phillipsrb@hotmail.com.