Sunday's expedition

Rifle Travel Blog

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The vacuum clicked and rattled its dissention with having to pass through the cream-colored shag--Minute bits of plastic I’d imagine-- parts BARBIE will just have to do without. Yesterday, I slashed, organized, and gutted all my daughter’s worldly possessions, and I come away with a sense of comradeliness with my brethren the Everest climbers or even Jacques Cousteau. To say my Darling is a bit of a pack rat would be to say tv dinners kinda taste good, or orange is kind of a color. Despite the mounds of collected treasures, I caught myself smiling many times at her ‘worm-holed’ secrets—like the discovery of a cache of my Chapstick tubes—the ones that didn’t get claimed by the washer and dryer—in the bottom layers of her toy box. There was Easter stuff from LAST year, and nick-nacks from her cronies in first grade. The dress-up bin in the corner of her closet provided a wonderful reminder down my dusty lane’s memory with the many times my girl would just show up downstairs character, in complete regalia. There were countless spent coloring book pages and journal log entries, and other collections of girlie things, like rocks. Two giant garbage bags and four hours of IPOD music later, my daughter got a new room. My hope is that she’ll feel a smidgen of the love that’s been wafted in her domain; For to her it will be a brand new canvas and the fine art of stashing, but to me, my daughter’s room will always be a magical place.
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photo by: Bulldog1up