My most precious memories - in a box or two

This is my sweet sweet son and his fun little boy cousin running through the sprinkler at my mom's house.  Man the good times I had, and the good times we had a few weekends ago together.

Kendal, Emmitt, and Brogan are the cutest little buddies.  They have such a good time together and seem to always find something to keep them going - sometimes in a naughty direction!

This is my nephew Waylon who is 14 years old.  He is such a crack up.  I wish I were able to be around him more because he has inherited my dad's sense of humor, and my brother's face.  Just watching him reminds me of my childhood and sometimes I think I see my brother right before my eyes!

I remember August evenings at home when I was somewhere around 8 or 9 years old seeming to last for hours.  We had an old empty wooden spool used for wire from my dad's work and this old fiberglass ladder that was our jungle gym.  We would see who could walk the spool the farthest without falling off, and we would see who could climb the ladder the highest before it fell over.  Man, good times!  I remember quite vividly getting up there pretty high on that ladder.  I showed Waylon how we used to do it and for an old aunt with a buggered up foot, I did okay.  Waylon was set on beating me, and he did.  What ever happened to good old fun???

This folks, is the attic.  The wonderful little spot above my dad's shop that was so much fun when I was growing up.  We used to sleep up there in the summer, play up there, and I am pretty sure we had some 'club meetings' up there too.  It was a sweet set up - a queen bed, a black and white TV, a little carpet, and this crazy swing thing my dad made to hold flour sacks.  Did my mom bake??  I am not sure why we had 50 pound bags of flour, maybe it was cement!
Anyway, the attic has been the house of all our wonderful memories and junk for too long.  My mom and dad told me and my siblings this spring that we needed to come and get our treasures because the attic was getting cleaned out and dad was tearing down the stairs and landing.  Ouch - memories just demolished!!  Sorry mom, just had to throw that in!

So Tori and I went to the attic.  She was not feeling as sentimental as I was and told my dad to bring the dump truck over and park it under the landing.  She tossed lamps, microwaves, stuffed animals, Barbie houses, college textbooks, cheerleader clothing, and all kinds of other fond fond memories!  I on the other hand, had a hard time chucking anything.  I even kept a few of HER things she wanted to throw away!  I did finally part with my 'bug boxes.'  The sweet wooden boxes my dad built for my insect collection in college.  That hurt - badly!

Anyway, here I am on the landing going through some treasures.  I had every handout I ever received from Young Women's, every secret sister gift from girl's camp, stitches from our dog Andy when she was spayed (I am sure I was 10ish!), wonderful Avon perfume from long ago, kidney beans my brother once put in my bed as a joke, love letters from 8th grade and beyond, and so so so much more!

I kept pulling things out of my boxes and saying "Oh, I remember I got this in 7th grade from Trena when we had field day at Capitol Reef" and then I would hold up a stick.  Okay, so that was a stretch, but not by much.  My mom, sister, and husband finally left me to bask in the dust of my high school years.  It was awesome!  For pity sakes, I saved the plastic sword from my junior prom that had my name on it!!  And I hate to admit it, but a sampling of the streamers also!!

I really just wanted to leave all of my stuff in the attic.  It was FINE there, just fine!  But no, I had to dig through it and decide what was important (all of it!) and take home what I wanted to keep, and throw the rest into the dump truck.  It just seemed wrong wrong wrong!  I did enjoy looking at all my clogging and gymnastics costumes I wore in middle school, dang I was sweet!  There were oodles of things from my high school boyfriend Brian.  Wow, oodles.  I did keep some great memories, but I did chuck the poster he made at the last minute to ask me to the Harvest Ball one year.  What a crack up!  Oh, and the wooden pencil holder Randy Hiskey made me in 9th grade I held onto; you never know when you might need a pencil holder in the shape of a number one.  I did let the earrings Cameron Ekker gave me for Christmas in 8th grade go, it was hard, but I let them go.  Kelsey asked me if she could have them and I told her "no."

I had around 5 or 6 boxes like this one - clearly marked.  My mom informs me that the dresser in my old room is still full of great things too, but she will let me get all of those sweet memories another time!  This exact box is still in my car trunk.  I did not open it at my mom's.  There was just not enough time to sift through it all!  So I guess I get to see what treasures are in this sealed box next.

So, I guess since all my junk is out of there, the attic will be locked up for good.  Well, my brother still needs to come and get his things.  As I set my 4 boxes of stuff that was spared from the dump truck aside, I looked at my sister Tori.  She got away with a shoe box size of treasures.  What is it that makes me so sentimental??

Hey, anyone up for a chocolate SMILING SANTA that has to be a good 25 years old??  Or how about some hot chocolate mix I got at girls camp one year?  Yeah, I am pitiful!

After the attic festivities were taken care of, we needed to eat.  Thanks mom for such great meals and for cooking for us all.  You are great!  Emmitt loves his fruit and smiles so nicely when I tell him to now! 

Brogan showed me his love of the glorious corn on the cob - another fabulous summer memory.

This is my mom and I.  Yeah, we look rough, but Tori just chucked all of our great treasures into the dump truck!

I love getting together with my family, and teasing and laughing around the table.  I sure enjoy them and love them so very much.

We had a wonderful, if not traumatic weekend sifting through our junk and letting the kids play with their cousins.  We had a killer game of croquet that Waylon sweetly and humbly schooled us all in, that of course reminded me of the killer croquet games I used to play at my cousins' house.  I swear my cousin Diantha took great pleasure in knocking my ball into the sage brush!  Oh, good times!