Ever take a good look at the items on your nightstand? What was on my night stand 20 years ago….maybe 40 years ago? Take an inventory yourself and then compare it to what was there 40 years ago. What lurks on the kitchen table, kitchen counter, and on the bathroom sink, and God forbid, in the medicine cabinet? It’s certainly not the same. Good science fiction is made of this stuff.
I’m aiming this at myself and my Baby Boomer peers. As I dusted around all the stuff on my nightstand, I thought about how things have changed over the many years. Among other things, there has always been the pair of reading glasses and a box of tissue. Many things have been added over the years. I know this, because it’s more difficult to move everything to dust…when I get around to it. Each time I dust, I gather up most of the stuff and put it into one of the three drawers below. Each time I go to dust, there it is again, out on top of the nightstand for the world to see.
On my nightstand, a stack of books to read has always been there, reading glasses, a box of tissue, my inhaler, eye drops, Mentholatum, Halls Lozenges, a saline solution nose spray, nail file, hand/body lotion, a note pad, a pad of Post-Its, a pencil, a pen and a white-out pen (for the daily crossword in the newspaper), and a plastic bag of doggie treats. I’d say that’s a far cry from what anyone of my generation would have had on their nightstand 40 years ago; and I daresay that what’s there now is pretty similar to most of my Boomer peers. I didn’t mention the remote control, and/ or the phone, as they’re not always there. Those are community items.
On my kitchen table, there is a pair of reading glasses, a large spiral notebook with a pencil stuck in the spine; one of those nice thick spirals with four partitions for semesters, I guess. With the pencil, I’ve divided each page into quarters as I go along. Each quarter is one day. On each quarter is a list of things to do, look up, research, oil change, things to get at the store and people to contact. And, most important, doctor, dental and eye exam appointments. As I turn the pages, it seems to get more complicated. There are Post-Its added on each page; notes of my notes. This is because while I do figure eights through the house, cleaning as I go, I keep a Post-It pad on me with a pencil behind my ear. I’m afraid I’ll forget to do or buy something vital. Today, I have to buy Antioxidants, my Spiriva, a toilet tank arm with chain for the master bathroom, and a few items at the grocery store. As I go along, I write down new items or chores that need to be done. I slap them down on the designated day in my big spiral. That’s a pretty good system, that admittedly, I took the idea from my #2 daughter. But, as I recall, there was a time when I didn’t need to make a list.
On my kitchen counter is a recipe book standing in a wooden holder that the Royster made for me many years ago, a pair of reading glasses, a box of tissue, on the tea cart, a huge canister of Metamucil, tomatoes in the window to be turned every other day, my beloved stereo in the window above the sink. I didn’t mention that there are various decorative items (dust catchers) in the window. Everyone has them…don’t they?
Today, I have various cleaning items lined up on the counter to remind me that there is dust that needs tending to. Usually, I just write my name or a message in the dust and go on to the really obvious stuff. However, my ceiling fans look like they’re all wearing angora sweaters. It has worked in the past to just leave the fans on 24/7. But, as I walked into the living room last week to discover what looked like little caterpillars on the carpet. Hank was giving them a curious look. Upon investigating, I discovered that they were nice thick two inch long pieces of dust. The fan had just been flinging little pieces off. I turned off the ceiling fan and studied on how to get the dust off the fan 24’ up in the air. Several years ago, The Royster devised an extended cane fishing pole with a feather duster at the end. It’s his invention, so I’ll let him use it. I know I’ll have a clean up to do after he’s done.
On the bathroom sink counter, is a small freestanding cabinet that I insisted on to help keep the clutter on the sink counter corralled. It worked beautifully for a week. The Royster hates the cabinet, even though he performed the “some assembly required” task. The clutter keeps spilling out of the cabinet onto the counter. There does seem to be the alternative of built in sliding door cabinets under the vanity mirror. That doesn’t seem to be an option right now. I just put the overflow in the medicine cabinet or under the sink.
Where does it all come from? It just seems to mate and propagate! We always open the medicine cabinet slowly, to avoid getting conked on the head by something falling out. There are all kinds of OTC remedies, patches, salves ointments and sprays for joint pain along various other OTC pain relievers. If one is bad for your liver, the other is bad for your kidneys. According to doctors who care about us, we Boomers are supposed to use the Tylenol exclusively. That’s the one that’s bad for your kidneys. I guess you can get a spare kidney easier than you can get a spare liver. Vitamins take up a great deal of space, and prescription meds for the both of us do end up on the sink ….where we can see them and remember to take them. Both of us try to keep the prescription stuff down to a minimum, though our dentist has prescribed a pain reliever “to have on hand”. That has been “on hand” long enough that it might be time to throw it out and start over. Neither of us likes to take pain medication, as it’s terribly constipating. I did not mention various pots and jars of miracle lotions and creams and make-up because it’s a given. Besides, I try to keep all that corralled in the cabinet. No sense in giving away all my beauty secrets.
In the “water closet” on the back of the toilet; matches, candles, reading glasses, and a small waste basket with various reading material stacked on it and a box of baby wipes off to the side. Don’t ask. If I didn’t say Preparation H, it’s because I know someone else will say it.
Finally, I’m embarrassed to say that this stuff has been haunting counters and nightstands long enough that I cannot for the life of me remember what used to be there. Someone please remind me. Was there ever room for a small plate of cookies?
