What’s in Your Junk Drawer?

Here’s what I found in mine.  What did you find in yours?

  1. Stick-on Googly Eyes
  2. Five screw drivers, but never the one I am looking for.
  3. Three tubes of dried up Super Glue
  4. Old unused stamps in very odd denominations that I will never use.
  5. A shoe box filled with pens, pencils, and markers—more than I can use in a lifetime.
  6. Batteries that may or may not still work.
  7. A ruler and a protractor
  8. A small compass and a step minder that work, but not for me
  9. Three hand calculators
  10. Notes for poem and story ideas that I may or may not write
    1. A flap of skin next to my thumb nail catches on everything
    2. Anger as a lifeline
    3. Dear Hillary: Thank you.
    4. The Abortion Diaries
    5. Forgiveness, redemption, surrender, evil, suffering, healing

9 responses to “What’s in Your Junk Drawer?

  1. Did my husband put you up to this to trick me into cleaning?!!!

  2. Just don’t let him do it. He’ll throw away all your valuable “items.”

  3. I need to find a seldom-opened drawer to hide what I was thinking as I tried to read a novel last night. This book was a TELL not SHOW extravaganza. This book was a plethora of adjectives. This book was a Bad Guy thinking about the guy who coincidentally filmed the Bad Guy killing his victim and calling him a ” troublesome investigative journalist.” (As if!) And that’s when I turned off the Kindle. So, I need to find a place to hide the writer’s snobbery in me.

  4. I like the idea of a hiding place where I can escape from all the crap not only showing up in books and movies, but also on the news. The last week has all been about trying to guess what Donald Trump is thinking and what he’s going to do about X, Y, and Z.. Is that news? No. It’s junk. Put it in a drawer. I’m getting ready to post a novel as an e-book and a paperback on Amazon. Then I’m going to get the prequel to that book out there too. Hope you’ll read at least one and tell me what you think. I’ll put up a blog post when I finally get all this accomplished–hopefully by the end of January at the latest. Cross your fingers for me.

    And stay warm up there!

  5. Fingers crossed! Let us know. I’ve branch out into photography. I captures a remarkable series of bald eagles fighting over a salmon. It’s in 3 parts, so you’ll have to scroll up or down. It’s called Food Fight, if you look in the archived for November:
    http://gullible-gulliblestravels.blogspot.com/

  6. Has your E book been posted and put on Amazon ?

    I outgrew a junk drawer years ago…..I have a bank of junk drawers in my kitchen. Since I don’t cook, I have no need to keep cooking implements in those drawers, so my little treasurers that I might need some day live in them. Half of a wooden clothes pin, a Bic lighter without a flint, 6 year old antibiotics, A letter from the person who stole my identity a few years ago, apologizing for stealing it and saying he was returning it because, I quote “There simply must be someone out there that would be better to be than you.”, an eight track tape of The Best of Lawrence Welk. many keys to locks unknown, ear drops for a pup I had three pups ago, blank Christmas name tags, a coupon for Cheerios at half price good thru July 7, 1983. My wedding photos kept in the same folder as my divorce decree. instructions on how to make cream of possom soup. a Canadian dime and a hit list of neighbors who must be eliminated.

  7. Your list brought a smile and a chuckle, especially the identity thief’s message, which is clearly pure fantasy on your part. Cream of possum soup! Neighborhood hit list! I could read your stuff all day.

    I hope to have the book out this month. I’m plugging along with the logistics and teaching at the same time. Luckily it’s winter, so I have no excuse to run outside and garden. We shall all keep going!

  8. My junk drawer has;
    A ball of elastic bands
    two pink paper clips
    a roll of yellow duct tape
    a ball of prickly brown string that feels like rope
    an orange exacto knife with a broken blade (probably trying to cut that rope)
    6 Large brown buttons (part of a collection that got mislayed)
    a writing pen much to pretty for a junk drawer
    a pair of silver sissors shaped like a birds’ beak
    a pink screwdriver with a platic handle that holds the interchangable ends (some now stripped)
    something that resembles an olive pit that might be something my Grandma put in the holey sock to darn it
    a flowered notebook binding peeling
    a bunch of used sticky notes filled with words that spoke to me
    and finally …a drawer liner!

  9. The Kitchen Witch – popped out of the junk drawer, and it brought back some fun memories, I think it was in the early 1980’s that the Kitchen Witch became the “new thing.” Every kitchen had to have one, she assured good cooking, kept away evil spirits, or maybe rogue spices? To this day, I don’t know why the Kitchen Witch was the next best thing, but then I never understood the fascination with pet rocks or cabbage patch kids. I guess I’m just not the “hip chick” I want to believe I am.

    My mother, was the absolute leader in the procurement of kitchen gadgets, accessories, in fact, all accoutrements culinary. She had gadgets that squared off hard boiled eggs because oval eggs were sure to become passé. No one had a better equipped kitchen than Mom, and that included a Kitchen Witch. She gifted them to all of us, me, my sister, friends and cousins. Mine was a magnetic witch, with my name spread across it’s body, steadfastly gripping a bushy broom, waiting to evict any rogue spices, or evil spirits from my kitchen.

    I was dubious of her prowess, because I remembered the witch let her down more than once.

    Where was the witch when Mom was in a rush to make some chicken soup for a holiday dinner, and she decided to use the pressure cooker? Yes, it exploded! Carrots splattered over the ceiling, celery and onion pieces added to the wallpaper pattern, chicken bones hung from light fixtures, and windows were drenched in fatty chicken soup.

    My mother precariously climbed the ladder to scrape carrots off the ceiling. My sister, ever the helper, held the ladder steady, and then eagerly commented to my mother, that she badly needed to shave her legs. For a brief moment, I thought the next thing my mother was going to put into the pressure cooker, my sister. We had salad for dinner.

    Where was the witch through the potato pancake escapade? The pancakes were inedible, they smelled vile, and looked greenish. No one had the courage to take the first bite. Even our dog snubbed the scraps. My father took pity on us, and declared. “time for a hot chocolate run!”

    This might seem very mundane, however, at the time we lived in Tucson and we drove to Phoenix, (100+ miles each way) for cocoa. My Dad figured this would be great experience for me to learn to drive at night, with long distances and fast roads.

    I gripped the steering wheel until it hurt, my mother held her breath, my siblings were silent (fear), the dog slept, blissfully oblivious. The return trip ended with us pushing the car off the road, yep, empty tank.

    So, you see, there has been a dereliction of duty by the witch, which is why I decided it was time to evict her from the junk drawer and retire her to a random box in the garage. I can’t just toss her out, too many Mom memories. But I don’t think I can count on that magnetic witch to thwart the evil spirits, spices or inedible potato pancakes. PS – I don’t own a pressure cooker, why push my luck!

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