Monday, February 7, 2011

Nostalgia Only Goes So Far




Nostalgia only goes so far.  That is my definitive word on the subject.  I have several subscriptions to magazines that tend to recall the past through a heavily fogged lens.  Some recall fondly the joy of hanging out the laundry on clotheslines, and then sleeping on fresh-air dried sheets.  I, too, did that as a child.  I also helped wash those sheets in a wringer washer with two rinse tubs.  Then I hung the sheets and brought them in.  They were a stiff as a board at times, and felt like sandpaper.  The towels were much worse—drying off with them was an exfoliating experience.

Some recall the pleasure of snapping beans on the porch with an elderly relative.  I did that, too.  And, I have to admit, listening to my grandmothers talk was something I will always treasure.  But, I was the one who helped plant the beans and hoe out the weeds.  Then I was the one who picked the beans, under the hot Midwest sun.  Being the youngest member of the bean snapping brigade, those were my jobs.  So my fondest memory genes hit a wall when thinking about beans.

Yes, recalling the past is a mixed bag. Right now, I am nostalgic for the time back in 2010 when I didn’t have this blasted cold/sinus infection.  When was that?  November?  Maybe, October?  I don’t know.  All I do know is that I am so thankful that we have a Costco nearby and I can buy a flat of Kleenex with Aloe Lotion for less than $12.  When we bought the first flat, we foolishly thought it would last us until the spring.  We are into our second flat, and it is only February.

I recall being able to sleep through the whole night, without getting up to cough up ‘stuff’ and blow my nose.  It was wonderful to have the Kleenex box on the nightstand, instead of clutching it with my left arm while reaching for a fresh tissue with my right. 

Go to the doctor, you may suggest.  I did that, and got a prescription for antibiotic, after I described accurately the color and texture of the nasal discharge.  The doctor probed the sinus areas on my face, and I mentioned that there was one area over my right eye that was about three times its normal size, and that she should be able to see the bruising that was surely there.  Try Sudafed, some mentioned.  Use DayQuil, others said.  Have you tried the Neti Pot?  Oh, yes. I have done them all.

The Neti Pot, by the way, is an experience to be…experienced.  Don’t rightly know how to describe it without grossing out every reader who checks this blog out.  Only those who are with me in my misery know what I mean.  My oh my, you know that to which I refer.

Yes, nostalgia is a strong attachment and longing for something that brought each person a delight at one time or another.  To be able to breathe again, to smell fresh air, to appreciate humor—someday I will have those things again.

1 comment:

  1. I never got that whole "fresh from the line" wistfulness. I remember my shirts fading from the sun and my hands aching from hanging clothes in the cold wind.

    I loved how you put that towels were an exfoliating experience. Made me chuckle. Nice blog.
    Edge of Your Seat Romance

    ReplyDelete

Go ahead...it won' t hurt...I'd love to hear what you think!