The spectacular mundane

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Welcome to the Spectacular Mundane

Posted by chelseakline on February 12, 2019

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It's ok, we're all going to die anyway.

There was a brief reprieve from the intense cold that gripped the northeast recently, and I leapt at the opportunity to get out into the woods. It took the regular yet absurd amount of cajoling, but I actually got my children out the door for a hike- boots, gloves, hats and everything!

We trekked down the trails and felt the crisp air smack our faces in a wonderfully refreshing way. Late Fall in New England reveals so many pleasures to those who are hardy enough to seek them out. We ran and skipped down the trails, our lungs coming alive again thanks to the glorious fresh cold air. For a moment, I considered all the places and seasons that one might die, and wondered if maybe in the woods in the snow would be somewhat preferable, relatively.

By the time we were a good ways in from the road, the silence was everywhere, filling in the spaces between our teeth and folds of our brains, cleaning out the dust. The thick silence was broken only by the crunching of our boots in the leaves and i…

Baby Ring

Cleaning out a box last night I found my father’s baby ring. How stunning that this little treasure has survived thus far, given not only the fact that my father was born in the ‘30s, but that he traveled some bumpy roads, so to speak. How remarkable that this treasure exists at all, given that my Dutch immigrant grandma Lulu and her Irish Immigrant husband Andy both worked at the cigarette factory- how did they even afford such a thing? What made them decide to purchase a ring for their only son? Perhaps they knew a jeweler and got a discount? Was it a gift from a close friend? I will have to wonder forever.. His initials are there- WSA for William Sterret Anderson. The ring is all wonky and misshapen, like it has been stepped on or smashed in a door jam and someone tried to pull it back to a slightly circular shape, but did so gingerly so as not to snap the thin band. But Grandma Lulu is gone, as is Andy, whom I never met. Now there is my baby Lulu, who is every bit as sweet as her g…

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