The new year has come and Annie is gone. She has greeted so many, many new years at my home, but this one comes to find that Annie no longer lives here. My husband and I have spent the last months of the last year trying to de-clutter our home. Not totally mind you, as I know better than to do that. If I were to remove ALL clutter from my home I would feel myself a stranger in a strange house, and I would forthright begin a tireless quest to replace the missing clutter.
That is how Annie has come to be absent, along with hundreds of LP albums that we no longer used, photography developing equipment, stacks and stacks of saved magazines that I have treasured through the years such as “The Magazine Antiques” and assorted miscellany. Annie was a big girl, a big ragdoll and a big bit of clutter, so she was tossed.
However it is only Annie that I miss. I knew it would be like this and that is why I photographed her smiling face, just before I tossed her. Now I am regretting that I did not photograph her heart also, just to verify that it was yet stuck to her chest. But I didn’t. I just tossed her into the bin destined for the local hospital’s Thrift Shop. She had been here so long, played with by so many grandchildren, that she had lost some of her clothing and, most horribly, her right foot. Her cotton batting innards were spilling forth. I am weary of mending and fixing, so I pinned her detached parts to her and said good-bye. She is such a delightful creature that my heart felt certain that another clutter-loving Thrift Shop shopper will find her appealing and restore her lost dignity. Annie has been recycled to another home, I hopefully tell myself.