I'm the type of person who can't use things up when they're almost spent. The cupboard under my sink is full of various hair products that are 98 percent used up; I can never bring myself to use the last little bit because something in me makes me need to save it for when I'll really need it. My bedroom is littered with mint containers with one mint left in each. I can't use the last mint, but I can't throw away the container until all the mints are used.
This same phenomenon has prevented me from either using or throwing away my special Italian umbrella for a year and a half.
In Italy, it rains quite a bit. Because I am One Who Prepares, I would pack my umbrella every day. For the first year of my mission, it was a light-weight umbrella that had been given to me as a mission gift---until it was stolen by a church member. After that was stolen, I simply would grab one of the many umbrellas that inevitably collected in each mission apartment---not that it really mattered anyway; as long as you are in a big city, the moment a drop falls from the sky, mobs of foreign street vendors surround any umbrella-less person, offering an umbrella for five euros. No? Four euros. No? For you, bella, two euros. Sold.
And so, with a rain coat and an umbrella, you would think that I was set anytime it rained. But I wasn't. See, because I was One Who Prepares, but my companions never were. Or at least they saw that I had an umbrella and thought that they were covered, literally. But let's review the sorry lot of One Who Prepares:
Rain or not, One Who Prepares must carry the umbrella all day long.
When it begins to rain, One Who Prepares gets the job of holding the umbrella over the companionship for hours.
Because there are puddles, even when a companionship tries to walk closely together, inevitably they must sometimes diverge to avoid stepping in puddles and on those occasions, One Who Prepares still tries to be kind to the umbrella-less companion and stretches out her arm to make sure that the companion is covered as she steps around the puddle.
One Who Prepares, despite her preparation, gets wet.
Basically, One Who Prepares is screwed over completely. Get it?
It took me MONTHS before I finally clued into the fact that the situation was wholly unfair. Three months before the end of my mission, after we had about two weeks of straight rain, I told my companion that I was no longer sharing my umbrella with her. The torrential rains had claimed the lives of all but one of the umbrellas in the apartment. I told her that she could have the remaining umbrella and I would go out and buy my own.
I bought the most fantastic umbrella I've ever seen. First of all, it was name-brand. Second of all, it didn't cost two euros. And it didn't cost five euros. Third of all, it was beautiful and sturdy. I bought it and spelled things out clearly to my companion: I will never share this umbrella with you. You are welcome to use the other umbrella every day, but if you don't pack it and bring it with you, I'm not going to get myself wet because you failed to prepare.
Really it was an empty threat. As much as I would have loved to leave her out in the rain and stay dry under my beautiful umbrella, I was too conscious of the Church's public image to allow the Italians to see a companionship where the one sister wouldn't even share her umbrella with the other. But it worked. I never had to share my umbrella again.
The umbrella served me well for the last three months. And I loved it so dearly that I hand-carried it back to the United States. It was too long to fit into my luggage. I used it during the summer I was home before returning to BYU and the day I was flying out to BYU, I had it at the door, ready to hand-carry it to Utah. But I got distracted and left it there, at the door. When I got to Utah, I called home and asked my mother to please put it in the closet until I came home for Christmas.
I don't recall telling her that she could use it in the interim. But when I got home for Christmas, I opened up the umbrella and noticed that one of the spokes was slightly---ever-so-slightly---bent.
I hand-carried the umbrella back to Utah but as I used it, I noticed that the slight bend in the spoke was causing a slight rust spot and a slight tear in the fabric. And in that moment, the umbrella became like a can of almost-used hair spray or almost-consumed tin of mints. It was too precious to use and too precious to throw away. It went into the back of the closet for safe-keeping and I brought out an old, trusty umbrella that I didn't really care about.
I've been using old trusty for the past year, but forgot it in my car earlier this week, so yesterday morning, when it was raining and I needed to get to my car, I grabbed my beautiful umbrella, and popped her open.
Or at least I tried.
Sometime during a year and a half of disuse and two moves, the shaft of the umbrella was bent out of place, now preventing the umbrella from opening completely.
I can't bring her back into the house---I know that now, she's officially garbage. But she'll probably sit in my car for another year and a half before I can bring myself to trash her.
12 comments:
there is this thing called "freecycle." Its under the premise that the people on it are trying to recycle things and keep them out of the landfills. Really, its for 3 groups of people. The first are really poor and love to get free junk whether its worth anything or not. The second are for people with umbrellas that they love but can't bare/bear (hmmm?) to throw it into the dumpster. And lastly for rich people who have homes overflowing with good stuff to give to poor people. you should check it out. freecycle.com it'll direct you to a website for your area.
For you bella, only ONE Euro. . . AND I comment on your blog.
I missed the Euro. When I was in Spain they were still doing the peseta. I'm old.
Why "One Who Prepares" with caps like that?
Bedelia: I'll have to check that ouT!
Ginsberg: Caps to indicate the importance of One Who Prepares as opposed to one who doesn't prepare. See? I'm better. Basically, it was nothing more than a stylistic decision.
I love, love, love freecycle. My problem is that I will get a DI bag together and it will sit and sit. With Freecycle, I can arrange to have someone come and pick it up, and they DO! Someone who honestly needs my crap!
The best part is that you can freecycle stuff that you honestly think no one else would want. We changed out our front door and crappy screen door. Someone on freecyle actually wanted them--saving us a trip to the dump.
/end freecycle testimonial.
A good umbrella is hard to find and even more difficult to part with.
I could write about an umbrella on my mission. I would title it "Casa." And then everyone would think I was going to blog about a house. Imagine their astonishment when the post turned out to be about an umbrella instead. And that is why serving a mission speaking a romance language is cooler than just about anything.
DG, I'm just glad that I finally learned that the word was ombrello and not umbrello. It took me the entire 18 months of my mission. I only learned it when an investigator wrote me a goodbye letter and mentioned the umbrella that I always carried and refused to share with my companion (he and his family thought that was really funny). I saw "ombrello" and I thought, "Oh, that's funny. He totally spelled it wrong." And then I took a moment to reflect on whether he, the guy who'd been speaking Italian for 55 years was wrong, or whether I was wrong. I'm just glad I learned because otherwise, the title of this post would have been "l'umbrello" and my, how that would have been embarrassing!
About getting rid of my umbrella, someone---maybe Redras or maybe Sahkmet---emailed me and said that I should use the fabric to make something and that way, I could be keeping the umbrella. I'm going to do that.
OOOOH! OOOOH! You're a collecter.
"I tried to have the cat put down, but I just couldn't, so I put her in the closet for a rainy day and bought another cat. And another. And another..."
.
I have this large number of almost threadbare socks I don't dare wear.
This summer, I had to face the music and chuck some old mission stuff. The worst was trashing my old fleece. Unlike your umbrella, it was a piece of crap within the first few weeks of purcahse. Still, I kept it with me for almost five years, and it became, in a sense, part of me.
But in the end, it was either it or my first organic chemistry book that had to go. In my nerdy little world, books always win over clothing.
I have a similar problem with peanut butter. You see, sometimes I don't have the energy to do the final scrapings of a jar of peanut butter. So I open a new one. But then I never have the energy for the scrapings. But I could never throw out a half-sandwich worth of peanut butter. Thus, I am often left with a sacred shrine of mostly empty peanut butter jars.
I have been defamed. I NEVER used that umbrella. That pink one?! Never.
You broke it yourself, obviously, before you went to Utah.
Hey,
Thanks for the comment on my blog. I was quite confused as to how this person from Utah got my address (and for a moment allowed myself to imagine that I was so famous a blogger that even random people from the States read my entries), but was even more tickled to realise who this random person was! Well hello! Long time no chat! I enjoyed your posts that I've read here, and I especially liked the contest to win a date with you. I'll have to keep reading to find out the winner.
I too have a thing where I cannot throw obvious garbage out. I've kept such things as broken lava lamps, cracked plates (oh I can just glue it back together), and disfunctional walkman/diskmans. Obviously I can't throw this stuff out...what if I can fix it one day or can use the parts for something else? Hence I accumulate too much stuff, and earn the appropriate title of "packrat". Well, you never know when someone might need that bit of string just that length, right?
Anyway, great to hear from you. Say hi to the fam for me,
- spart
Post a Comment