There is a grave disturbance in the atmosphere around my house. It is time to change the closets over from summer wear to winter clothes. Don’t you hate it? I hate it more than changing to Daylight Savings Time.
Do y’all remember Agatha Tarantula and Mavis Merry Widow who help to protect all my furniture and finery with lovely detailed spider webs? Let me now introduce you to Agatha’s second cousin, Ariadne, a lovely young thing new to our abode.
Ariadne has moved into my shoe cupboard. I say “cupboard,” but it is actually a very old “kitchen safe.” For those of you who are not blessed with southern heritage, or who are too young to appreciate it if you are, let me explain.
A safe is where people would place food that needed protecting. Screen wire or cheesecloth would be tacked inside the open-fronted doors so that air could pass through but flies and vermin could not. Sometimes a bell was placed high on the door so it would ring when little two-legged varmints would try to steal a freshly-made peach pie or other goodie.
My shoe safe was made for my Great-Grandmother Evans in the early 1840’s. Made from old-growth long leaf pine, the cupboard has been painted white as long as I can remember. When my uncle died, he left me a few things that I had always loved. This safe and another were part of my treasures.
Value of this old thing? Not much. To me---priceless. I have a seashell that has been stored in that safe since my granddaddy, Eli Martin Evans (1889-1952), found it on the beach in 1893.
Now my shoes, coordinated by color per shelf, are in that safe. I have every color under the rainbow. I love shoes of all kinds, and I have some shoes and sandals that are older than dirt. (If you take care of your shoes, they last forever.) I cannot tell you how much I lament giving up sandals for the winter. My greatest regret, however, is not being able to wear high heels anymore. Oh, the cruelty of age!
Back to Ariadne, dear soul, who moved in and has made herself right at home in the shoe safe. When I started pulling out my summer shoes, I found her. We introduced ourselves, had a nice cuppa tea, and came to an arrangement. She may continue to live in the safe as long as she allows me to remove shoes to match my outfits without her interference. She has also agreed not to marry and produce more babies.
I wonder who is living in the winter clothes closet. I hope I like her. She has my prettiest jacket held hostage.