Ponderings while purging the pantry...

When I am troubled, tangled, trying to sort it all out, I clean.

(When we learned the heartbreaking news of our beloved Golden Retriever's aggressive cancer and knew we had to make even more heartbreaking decisions I cleaned the stove so thoroughly that it still shines nearly three years later.)

Thus it was that mid-month I found I REQUIRED something to clean--and what better than...

the pantry.

When I clean something that has gotten so out-of-control, messy and disorganized, it forces me to look at things differently, see space as real estate and consider new ways of using the space I have. 

I know I'm trying to make order to find inner peace and a clear head, but as I pull dusty items off the top shelves I let my mind begin its own wanderings...

...when did this become the age of mass shootings?...

...when did picking up an AR-15 style semi-automatic rifle become the "problem solver of choice?"...

...how did we as American adults so fail a generation of our children?...

...how does a parent ever understand the murder of his/her child?...

...when did schools, churches, night clubs, movie theatres and outdoor music concerts become "easy targets?"...

I find I am grateful that the pantry is such a mess.  I fill a large box with thermos bottles I don't need, wicker baskets I don't want and serving bowls I never liked.

...how could a first grader at Sandy Hook in 2012 ever have a normal childhood?...

...what is normal when children see their friends and teachers shot?...

...how does running for your life down the school hallway forever impact your life?...

The top shelves are mostly storage for items I seldom use so reorganizing them goes fairly quickly.  Now I begin tackling the mass of herbs and spices--most of which are so old it's a no-brainer to pour out the contents and recycle the package.  The smells of oregano, cinnamon, cumin and ancient garlic salt waft up from the wastebasket.

 ...I wonder how the deputy who was hired to protect, armed and trained, comes to terms with himself for choosing not to enter Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School when he was needed most...

...how could so many credible tips and leads be so miserably handled/ignored?...

I pause on my way to the sink to breathe in the beauty of an afternoon snowfall, flakes so thick I cannot see beyond the backyard fence.  At my small feeder visible from the sink I admire the song sparrows hungrily pulling seeds, taking turns at the perches.  

After watching the CNN town hall I return to the pantry the next day.

...these high school seniors have spent their entire school years in the post-Columbine era--Generation Columbine--and don't know the school experience is not supposed to include dying at school in a mass shooting...

...I experienced fire drills and they have to worry about lockdowns, a.k.a. "active shooter drills"  and how to stay out of a shooter's line of sight while hiding in a classroom...

Now I'm ready to begin sorting the jumble of cans and boxes--the FOOD aspect of the pantry.  It's a very cold day, perfect for soft jazz and checking expiration dates. 

...I am so impressed that after such a monumental tragedy the students are so well-spoken and thoughtful...

...their message of

Never Again 

resonate with me...

...maybe it's "the children"--with their passion coupled with media savvy who can propel us out of this quagmire of "nothing happening" and "it's too big a problem to tackle..."

...these "children" have faced an AR-15 and now have to deal with the media trolls and conspiracy theorists--all who say they should not by virtue of their victimhood  be granted any special status and can be ignored...

I've filled our car with boxes full of items headed for Goodwill.  I've purchased 10 white plastic containers to better organize--and went back for more. 

I'm still not completely finished but the pantry is looking so fresh and organized.  I'm impressed that I can now find anything with ease and not have to demolish a stack of boxes of Rice-a-roni to find a can of peaches. 

As I get ready to deliver half the pantry to the thrift store I realize I'm feeling more focused and hopeful.  The wind is blowing snow in big clouds off the roof and it's frightfully cold--but, the sky is cloudless blue and the sun is shining.

...I think these brave students are teaching us--to speak up and say Enough is Enough.  
              It's time for change.