Urgh! I seriously hate stereotyping, but I’m about to do it.
First of all, we were watching a reality show on television, and a young woman was not “acting” the way another thought she should. The man said, “I don’t know if she is Bipolar or Schizo….”.
Guess what? To those who haven’t figured it out by now–and I’m going to repeat–people with mental illnesses are not stupid. Did you know, we can actually think and process information if our illness is well managed. We work, and have “normal” lives too! Amazing, isn’t it?
I’m sending out a little plug for a message I’ve seen on television lately, regarding the stigma of mental illness. Check out bringchange2mind.org. There is some great information to stop the stigma. I took the pledge, will you? Ha! You’re under no obligation, but if you’re interested….
I must return to the topic of our garage sale we had in Nowhere.
Some of us have things lying around of no value–junk. Around our house, we try to keep our junk to a minimum, but there is a canopy to fit the back of a truck we haven’t had for–maybe 7 years? It’s sitting in our backyard on blocks so the critters don’t hide in there. It’s quite a lovely addition to our little backyard sanctuary.
Well, you can guess whose junk that is, but mine is a stash of long pine needles I have collected to make pine needle baskets. They have been in boxes in the garage for 4 years? I even started separating them into lengths so that I didn’t have a short needle mixed in with longer ones, to avoid the short one sticking out the side of the basket. whisper–I won’t go into my stacks of patterns, yarn stash, scrapbook supplies, old t-shirts and old jeans to make a quilt of……
More of my dirty laundry a-hanging on the line.
Anyway, I have blogged about my father-in-law’s favorite chair. When he knew he was going to have to enter a care facility, he seriously wanted my husband to bring that chair to him. Unfortunately, he was not in any position to sit in the chair, so my husband didn’t take it to him.
Who knows how old that chair was, but it was full of cigarette smoke–the kind even Febreze couldn’t get rid of. It had burn holes from his cigarettes, and held together with duct tape. It was hard to sit in because it was formed to my father-in-law’s butt. When sitting in it, it kind of wobbled and felt like it may tip over.
My husband and brother-in-law packed that chair, and another very torn apart chair, into the back of the pickup to haul away after the sale. Neither chair had any redeemable value.
But, we must never underestimate people.
A Ms. Exuberance Pants jumped out of her car yelling, “oh no! Somebody already bought the blue chair”.
My brother-in-law told her it was falling apart, smelled like cigarettes, and was loaded up to haul away, it wasn’t an item for sale.
But—she wanted that chair!
My brother-in-law offered it to her, if she really wanted it. She did, and he unloaded it from the pile of junk.
She was so delighted, she hugged the chair and proclaimed how much she loved blue.
Okay, so I have to admit, we were wondering if her cornbread wasn’t completely done in the middle. But why, oh why, did she find that chair so lovely?
Again, there you have it, my admission that I judged someone based upon their love of junk. Did it make her mentally ill? Probably not, but I did judge her decorating style—we certainly had a good laugh over it.
Just a reminder to y’all, one man’s junk is another man’s treasure.
Those pine needles? Maybe they aren’t junk after all.
(ps – Oh-Dear-One-of-Mine, I’m not serious. Chucking the pine needles is on my to-do list)