The Luxury of An Old Attic
As I recently posted on purging the "stuff" in my attic, it reminded me of an old post and song I wrote about my attic. Barbara reminded me of it with one of her recent posts. Neat how that works, eh?
I am lucky to have a huge full height attic that takes up the entire 3rd floor of our old house, so I get to keep EVERYTHING I’ve ever had…AND I DO!! There are so many boxes up there that hold various sentimental things that I never quite have the heart to dispose of any of it. That’s not to say I don’t actually go up there with those good intentions. Many times have I made that trek up those steep stairs, music playing full blast, coffee in hand, ready to tackle "PROJECT PITCH"! But invariably, I sit for a few hours, lost in memories and once again enjoy my junk! I got to thinking of all the neat treasures up there and how several dated back to old flames not quite forgotten. I knew then that I had to re-capture the connection to my innocent girlhood in a poem that later turned itself into a song with a somewhat Country and Western flavour. The "You" in these words is used in a collective sense, (not that I have forgotten any of their names!!)
the attic of my mind
there are things that I have gathered
from the places that I’ve been
in the spaces that I give them
i remember what they mean
like rocks and shells and matchbooks
and whatever I could find
but some things are only treasured in the attic of my mind
from the places that I’ve been
in the spaces that I give them
i remember what they mean
like rocks and shells and matchbooks
and whatever I could find
but some things are only treasured in the attic of my mind
old textbooks and some trophies
of younger days gone by
and that I’ve always kept them
I often wonder why
for time stands still in darkness
on the memories stored above
but no dust ever gathers on the souvenirs of love
of younger days gone by
and that I’ve always kept them
I often wonder why
for time stands still in darkness
on the memories stored above
but no dust ever gathers on the souvenirs of love
the posters and the photos
and the record albums too
the coasters and the letters
all take me back to you
and in the box and carton
are the poems you penned and signed
but I can only keep you
in the attic of my mind
and the record albums too
the coasters and the letters
all take me back to you
and in the box and carton
are the poems you penned and signed
but I can only keep you
in the attic of my mind
we hold on to what we best know
and the things we’d like to keep
now it’s time to let go
’cause the feelings run too deep
so now I’m undecided
and I don’t know what to do
but if logic were abided
I’d clear out and start anew
so maybe I’ll go up there
just to throw it all away
or maybe I might put it off
for yet another day
it won’t make any difference
when what is left behind
is the fact I only see you
in the attic of my mind
and I can only have you
in the attic of my mind
and the things we’d like to keep
now it’s time to let go
’cause the feelings run too deep
so now I’m undecided
and I don’t know what to do
but if logic were abided
I’d clear out and start anew
so maybe I’ll go up there
just to throw it all away
or maybe I might put it off
for yet another day
it won’t make any difference
when what is left behind
is the fact I only see you
in the attic of my mind
and I can only have you
in the attic of my mind
Mother of Invention
copyright 2004
posted by Mother of Invention at 8:57 AM
12 Comments:
What a very cool idea -- the attic of our mind. We do store irreplacable priceless memories up there.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Was it Mother of Collection who said so :-)
My mother is the same, and one thing I am so very glad she saved for me was a 'history book' where all things from my childhoed was inside. My first word, the first time I walked by myself and such. All treasurable things. So I do understand you!
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Barbara: Yes, that's true...and easy to say as I'm reading this between trips to my attic sorting out more file boxes of lesson plans and thinking fondly about memories of teaching those lessons! But, oh, my aching back!
Getting a massage later!
Renny: Mother of Collection! That's a good one, Renny! You're witty today! That is so special your mom saved such a treasure for you. Your kids will think it's neat too. BTW, what WAS your first word?
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Oh, I like that one! Sometimes one can see things clearly in their mind's eye. It usually takes me a long time to clean things out, because I go through everything one at a time.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
I know where you are coming from for sure!
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Old Lady:Thanks..wish I had a C&W band to back me up! yes, culling is a slow process getting distracted as you go and rediscover neat things!
Lynn: So you're a pack rat too? Or do you have a lot of old boyfriends??!!!
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
I'm an inveterate 'pitcher', a habit I've picked up from having to move so often. My poor son has been wanting to play 'dress-up', but we don't have any really old clothes or costumes, just the things we still wear (out of style that they are), so it's not what he has in mind. I'll send him over.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Diana: My nieces and nephews loved to go up there when they were little and come down in all sorts of goofy dress-up stuff! In those days, I had a huge dress-up centre in my class and I had collected tons of overflow!
Thursday, September 07, 2006
No doubt you are familiar with Sherlock Holmes' discourse from "A Study in Scarlet", "You see," he explained, "I consider that a man's brain originally is like a little empty attic, and you have to stock it with such furniture as you choose. A fool takes in all the lumber of every sort that he comes across, so that the knowledge which might be useful to him gets crowded out, or at best is jumbled up with a lot of other things so that he has a difficulty in laying his hands upon it. Now the skilful workman is very careful indeed as to what he takes into his brain-attic. He will have nothing but the tools which may help him in doing his work, but of these he has a large assortment, and all in the most perfect order. It is a mistake to think that that little room has elastic walls and can distend to any extent. Depend upon it there comes a time when for every addition of knowledge you forget something that you knew before. It is of the highest importance, therefore, not to have useless facts elbowing out the useful ones."
I have tried to follow that, but … let us say that I have been somewhat less than successful; my mind, like my desk or study, is a clutter of memories and information - many people are often amazed at the little tidbits I remember.
Unless it is a health hazard, I see no reason to get rid of it. Sometimes things become obsolete and I discard them, otherwise, I hold onto them.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Richard: What a fabulously perfect quote for this post! Thanks! I am a well-known pack rat! I go to garage sales and get all kinds of neat stuff. I am a little messy at every place in my life...health hazard? Well, the firemen might say it's a fire hazard! I like to be organized but sometimes the clutter impedes this goal!
And yes, there is a direct link to the clutter in my mind! I get overwhelmed by what's in my head at times and need to simplify and "pitch" some of the clutter that's taking up space there too!
I'm not surprised that you remember as much as you do. You are obviously quite bright and well educated too. Many kids in my classes over the years who were very gifted, were horribly messy and disorganized! Their desks were a nightmare, their spelling worse, but they certainly knew a heck of a lot! They were always interesting students from whom I learned a ton more than I taught them!
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Awesome poem! I love it! I'm a packrat and have boxes of things everywhere and love to go through them and remember certain moments, certain events, which always leads to another memory. Probably why I enjoy scrapbooking so.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Brooksba: Thanks, again! I could spend hours in my attic. I imagine you are excellent at scrapbooking..your pictures are so wonderful and you definitely have an artistic flair!
Sunday, September 17, 2006
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