The place of lost things

When I looked through photos from one of my older computers to try to find a Photo Friday photo, I saw this one, taken in 2015, from an outdoor art exhibit on the Heights Boulevard esplanade. I’m not sure whether I shared it on here before.


Joe Barrington, “Sock Monkey,” 2015

Then today, when I searched a drawer for a pair of socks, I randomly pulled out these sock monkey gripper socks.

They made me think of a couple of sock monkey ornaments I didn’t hang on the tree this year. (The tree’s so full of ornaments that a lot of the larger fabric ones didn’t make it. Clearly, we need more trees.)

Is all this sock monkeying around a sign? I’ve mentioned on here before that I’m keeping a list of things I can’t find that have no reason for being misplaced or missing. One of those is a small, oblong tapestry case that could be used for makeup. I always stored random things in it, like this sock monkey flip book.

The book is here, but the case and the rest of its contents, like a wee sock monkey, are missing. On my list of ten missing items, two have been found (if you care, a set of T-shirts that vanished and a print that was mislaid sometime around the Harvey flood), but not this tapestry case. I am henceforth, when I review this list or add things to it, going to tell myself I can’t find items because they are on Hunter Biden’s laptop. That makes about as much sense as the other reasons that laptop is brought up as a red herring by people even loonier than I am.

A pause…


For sixty years…


…four generations of Cochranes…


…have sat around the table…


…on these six chairs.

They’ve traveled among homes in Georgia, South Carolina, Alabama, Kentucky, Texas, Utah, and Ohio. They’ve seated us at many Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, birthday, anniversary, retirement, graduation, and wedding meals. They were there for playing cards and other games, coloring, drawing, typing stories, sewing, assembling puzzles, soothing newborns, holding toddlers as they grew heavy with sleep, sneaking goodies from the table to dogs, and smoking and enjoying drinks while telling stories. So many stories. They’ve heard music, laughter, arguments, and borne witness to a million memories shared by the friends and family who sat in them.

It has taken me five years since the flood, when we stopped using them, to remove them from storage and let them go. The consignment shop that took them is part of an organization that in 2023 will mark 100 years of raising money for medical research and development. My mother placed items there when she lived in Houston, and I know she’d be fine with the chairs embarking on another adventure from there.

Debby said it best–she hoped the chairs find a good home with lots of love and laughter. I have dozens of photos showing that’s exactly the kind of family they’ve been with.

Today I’m not myself
And you, you’re someone else
And all these rules don’t fit
And all that starts can quit
What a peculiar state, we’re in
What a peculiar state, we’re in
Let’s play a game
Where all of the lives we lead
Could change
Let’s play a game
Where nothing that we can see
The same
But we’ll find other pieces to the puzzles
Slippin’ out under the locks
I could show you how many moves to checkmate right now
We could take apart this life we’re building
And pack it up inside a box
All that really matters is we’re doing it right now
Right now
But we’ll find other pieces to the puzzles
Slippin’ out under the locks
I could show you how many moves to checkmate right now
We could take apart this life we’re building
And pack it up inside a box
All that really matters is we’re doing it right now
Right now

As long as I have my memory, I’ll never willingly forget any of this

ETA: On 12/15, a New York Times article gave this information on children and gun deaths in the U.S.: “Guns are now the No. 1 cause of deaths among American children and teens, ahead of car crashes, other injuries and congenital disease…. The U.S. accounts for 97 percent of gun-related child deaths among similarly large and wealthy countries, despite making up just 46 percent of this group’s overall population…. The U.S. has more guns than people…”

Before Thanksgiving, I mentioned a project I was doing with the blog that would be of little interest to anyone else, but I was motivated by several reasons.

I believe I was a sophomore in college when I had to choose from suggested topics to research and write a persuasive paper for a speech class (I didn’t have to give a speech or participate in a debate; this was strictly a writing assignment). When I browsed the choices, the one that caught my eye was gun control: pro or con.

Two things interested me. First, my father was retired military. Specifically, the Army, and more specifically, the infantry. I knew he had to be proficient in weaponry (years later, I’d find papers that showed some of the weapons and tanks on which he’d been trained). Yet we never had a weapon in our home.

Further, I understood the culture he grew up in. As a boy and adolescent, he would have hunted. Whether specifically for food or for the camaraderie and skill of the activity, any fowl or other animal killed would have been used for food. Yet I couldn’t remember him talking about hunting, nor do I remember any occasion when he went hunting alone or with other hunters.

My high school boyfriend, who became my first husband, was also a hunter. Again, when he and our friends hunted, they hunted game for food. After we married and had our first post-college home, there were hunting weapons in our house. I never went near them, and he was meticulous about how he stored them.

All that in mind, I wasn’t sure why guns needed to be controlled. Did my father have a reason for not wanting them in our home? This was long before PTSD related to military service was a commonly known and discussed topic. I’d heard of “battle fatigue” and “shell shock,” but I didn’t know if those applied to my father. Did other people keep weapons in their homes? People who weren’t hunters? I had no idea. No one ever showed me any.

Since my ignorance seemed so vast, I picked that topic. I was diligent with my research, and I was stunned by the kinds of statistics and the number of tragic stories I read. Mass shootings were an anomaly back then, but the number of accidents in the home that killed children and other family members was numbing. The number of suicides in which a gun was used, the number of guns used in domestic violence, the crimes that turned deadly because of guns… All that juxtaposed against the Second Amendment rights that people cited as their right to “bear arms,” and our history of wars against U.S. citizens (1860s) and indigenous peoples (encompassing our expansion beyond the lakes, the prairies, the mountains that divided us from the Pacific Ocean).

When I wrote my paper, I chose to take the position of pro gun control. My position wasn’t that people shouldn’t have guns or should give up their guns. I chose instead education, training, registration, systems that I thought would protect, in particular, children from gun deaths, accidental deaths–because in that time, the idea of deliberately murdering school children was unthinkable. I read, studied, and interviewed to find compromise between gun safety and liberty.

I got an A on my project, and I got a conference with my professor, who told me I had one of the best researched, most thoughtful and thorough arguments on the topic he’d ever read.

In the years after that, I came to know people whose lives were impacted forever by guns, as was my own. In a broader sense, assassination attempts on Presidents Ford and Reagan were chilling reminders of the deaths of John and Robert Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Malcolm X. The murder of John Lennon kept mental health and gun violence part of the pubic debate.

But nothing in my research, and nothing in the world I grew up in, could have led me to predict that military weapons, weapons of war, would ever become common in police departments, first through SWAT teams, and later, with access to decommissioned military weapons, not quite as regulated. Nor would I have thought that private citizens would ever own weapons that have ONE purpose, a purpose that has nothing to do with protecting one’s home and family or with hunting. That purpose is murdering as many people as lethally and efficiently as possible.

I’ve only become more certain that with gun ownership should come gun responsibility, and once again, that leads back to training, education, registration, as well as things like waiting periods, age restrictions, and background checks. In jobs I’ve had that had nothing to do with weapons, I’ve had to be registered, fingerprinted, and provide proof of residency and a criminal-free record. We all have to provide proof of insurance, license, and ownership for many things… but not weapons. It makes no sense to me.

Now we have this myth of “good guys” with visible guns patrolling public streets, eating in public restaurants, standing in front of public buildings. They dress like military. They are armed like military. They are not military. They are not National Guard. They have to provide no proof of training or mental competency to be in public with weapons of war. I have no interest in being where they are because this seems insanely unsafe to me.

Gun violence is at the worst it’s been during my lifetime. I haven’t forgotten the things I learned. I haven’t forgotten interviewing responsible gun owners. I haven’t forgotten that my father, trained for the wars he was part of, left military weapons with the military.

Ten years. It’s been ten years today since twenty children and six staff members were murdered at Sandy Hook Elementary School in the village of Sandy Hook located in Newtown, Connecticut. We can’t say things have gotten better, only worse in these ten years.

.

The names below, of those killed, are not in the same order as the photos above.

Allison Wyatt, 6
Ana Marquez-Greene, 6
Anne Marie Murphy, 52 (Teacher)
Avielle Richman, 6
Benjamin Wheeler, 6
Caroline Previdi, 6
Catherine Hubbard, 6
Charlotte Bacon, 6
Chase Kowalski, 7
Daniel Barden, 7
Dawn Lafferty Hochsprung, 47 (Principal)
Dylan Hockley, 6
Emilie Parker, 6
Grace McDonnell, 7
Jack Pinto, 6
James Mattioli, 6
Jesse Lewis, 6
Jessica Rekos, 6
Josephine Gay, 7
Lauren Rousseau, 30 (Teacher)
Madeleine Hsu, 6
Mary Sherlach, 56 (Psychologist)
Noah Pozner, 6
Olivia Engel, 6
Rachel D’Avino, 29, (Therapist)
Victoria Soto, 27 (Teacher)

What I learned with my work in HIV/AIDS awareness and the NAMES Project is that names matter. Names remind us of the humanity of lives lost. My project I mentioned has been to research the eighteen years I’ve kept this blog, including the first on LiveJournal, find the victims of mass gun violence during my blog’s duration, and publish their names. It’s a daunting project, and I’ve barely begun to compile them all. I began with school shootings, moved to shootings at places of worship, and am now adding shootings at workplaces and commercial sites (e.g., grocery stores, malls) as well as those designated as domestic terrorism. As I find older posts on related subjects, I’m adding the tag “gun-reform” to them as I am to all new posts. As I find more details about incidents I’ve already recorded, I’m adding those. I haven’t provided names of the shooters, whether or not they died during the incidents.

I’m doing this because these deaths matter. These deaths break families’ and communities’ hearts. These deaths tear at the fabric of who we are and who we should be as citizens and neighbors. These deaths take deadly aim at the foundation of our country.

We are problem solvers. We are innovative. We are not evil. We can do better. We must do better.

Tiny Tuesday!


I have a character who wants to come back into what I’m writing, but it isn’t his time yet. I set up his little doll rep with some incense, crystals, and soothing music to help me create a vibe that will let me FINISH what I’ve been trying to write since September and couldn’t for so many reasons.

If you think my writing tricks are weird or quirky, maybe you haven’t known many writers. We can be rich in superstitions, writing totems, and ways to communicate with our muses. Maybe a song offered up for the two characters currently blocking his path to my subconscious will help…

Button Sunday

The second Sunday of December is Worldwide Candle Lighting Day. At 7 pm local time in every time zone, people light candles in memory of children who have died. The intention is to embrace the globe with warm light for a full twenty-four hours to honor and remember children who have lost their lives, whether to illness, accident, violence, or any other reason. You can read more about this day and its history from many Internet sources.

Although the observance of lives cut short too soon is a sad one, I believe any of us who have experienced such a loss find comfort in our memories of joy, of laughter, of every quality that made a child unique and lovable. We want lost children to be remembered by others, and we want to express the fullness of what we’ve lost.

For me personally, I envision the light of a candle sparking an inner fire to transform grief into action. Working toward peace in war zones, raising awareness of diseases that take children, advocating for gun reform, and breaking silence on suicide or child trafficking and exploitation are just some of the ways those impacted by the loss of children find purpose in surviving and remembering those they loved–in fact, continue to love every day.

If you haven’t known such loss, and even if you’re not with others, lighting a candle during your 7 pm hour makes you a part of a global community. We’re never alone when we recognize our shared humanity.

ETA: Tonight.

Crafty follow-up


A couple of projects from the past week. I found a box of wooden shiplap ornaments and painted a few to give away. Didn’t photograph them all, but here are four I remembered to shoot. Always feels good to paint again.

This little doll who I shared on this week’s Tiny Tuesday is Mattel’s 1994 Tommy, little brother of Ken. I bought him from eBay for a final Runway Monday collection in 2010. He had no clothes, but I made him this ring bearer outfit for Top Model Summer’s wedding. He’s so small that I literally sewed him into the outfit, which meant I had to cut it off of him. He’s had no clothes since. I’m trying to create patterns because if it’s challenging to sew for 11- and 12-inch dolls, it’s REALLY a pain for a doll only a bowl haircut over four inches.


Here’s a first attempt using felt for overalls so I wouldn’t have to sew hems, just put pattern pieces together and add a snap for the straps in the back. The pattern definitely needs to be modified for a better fit, but at least he has his own little outfit now.