A Matter of Need - Not Want

 As the child of parents who not only were sharecroppers, but grew up during the depression, there were many times I wanted something but was told I didn't 'need' it. We only got things we had to have. Therefore, some of my memories are of 'doing without', 'making do', 'use what you have' and knowing, as the Rolling Stones said: "you don't always get what you want.

My first grade year began with one or two No. 2 pencils, a box of eight crayons, probably the cheap ones, not Crayolas, and a red Big Chief writing tablet - or maybe that didn't come until second or third grade. Second grade began with whatever supplies were left from the previous year. We did not get new pencils or crayons just because it was a new grade. I honestly remember using my lead pencils until they were almost too small to hold. 

So, it may not be too surprising that some of things I 'wanted' when I was young are the things I bought for myself many years later. Like those boxes of colored pencils, the big box of 64 crayons and pencils by the dozens, not just two or three at a time. That box of 24 pencils might have been from some of stash my two youngest once had. Their dad generously took them school shopping every August. They did get new boxes of crayons, pencils, notebooks, etc. and a new backpack in which to carry them.

My thoughts this morning may have been triggered by this quote my husband posted on Facebook yesterday. I do have too much stuff. And I have been trying to rid myself of some of it. But certain things are hard for me to let go of. Like pencils, pens and notebooks. I don't 'need' them, but I 'want' them. And I can't let them go.

These are just three examples of the folders I have. The first is one of Kari's she had when she worked for InTrust Home Health in Des Moines. The middle one was given to me by an artist (and neighbor) I interviewed for an article for the Adams County Free Press. The leather one on the right obviously was once the property of one 'Harold A. Ashby'. I have no idea where I got that, probably at a garage sale. I'm sure the smudge over his name was where I once had stuck one of my business cards. There are more folders around here and inside each is a bit of what was going on in my life at the time I was using them.

All three have regular, letter size, legal pads in them - another of my coveted forms of paper. The burgundy leather one has some Mauderly family history notes written on the green paper of the legal pad. The single sheet tucked in on the left contains some of the lines from the novel I was attempting to write. 

The Terra Angelica folder has an almost pristine legal pad of white paper. Tucked into the pocket is a copy of the article I wrote for the Free Press, the title of which was Sound & Spirit. I think it was one of the best interviews, and subsequent articles, that I ever accomplished. I not only had the pleasure of hearing the interviewee playing some of his compositions, he also generously gave me copies of his CD's. 

The InTrust folder is also one I was using during my time at the local newspaper, which was the job I had when I first moved back to my hometown in 1995. Once again the legal pad is like new. The typed pages on the left are "Thoughts on Proposed Millennium Publication". It was ideas the current newspaper owner/publisher and the past paper owner/publisher were kicking around for what to do for the upcoming turn of the century. There was a list of the top stories of the 1900's and a request for people of the community to get involved sharing their own memories and thoughts of what might be included in a booklet or series of articles. By the time the millennium arrived, I had already left the Free Press. I don't remember what, if anything, was done by the paper to recognize entry into the 2000's.

Ah, but those pages laying across the folder, I do recognize. The former editor had a booklet from the Corning Academy for the year 1907. Because of my interest in history, he allowed me to photocopy it. I know I read it through at the time, but now after so many years, it is like seeing it for the first time. I can tell it is going to be incentive for some future blog posts. 

One thing I didn't find in the lists of students for the year of '07 was my grandfather George Lynam's name. Among my grandmother Bessie Lynam's photos is a picture postcard of the Corning Academy. On it she had noted, "George went here". That is something I never heard before. It's just one more thing I must remember to ask older brother Ron if he remembers ever hearing.