Early start on prepping this room for new paint. Where the house has settled I slice away veneer and check out the structure beneath. A rusting sheet rock nail has "popped" some paint in the ceiling, tsk,tsk, that needs a little help ... and there are tiny fissures radiating at about 45 (hmmm ... no degree symbol ... strike one) degrees away from the door frames, yes, those beautifully restored doors ... they are so pretty ... pristine like a magnolia blossom. I moved furniture ... swept dust bunnies and got to it.
This should dry and be ready for sanding pretty fast ... I've got a fan blowing on it. Sometimes that is counterproductive, because this stuff likes to cure on it's own time ... trying to speed up the process can cause cracks in the wall mud, but this is such a thin application. I'm taking my chances with it ... living large. Hah.
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So ... look what moving furniture turned up. I remembered my top secret hiding place for these little keepsakes, which belong with my little brother, he has me watching them for now. The rings, watch, and cue chalk were in a drawstring clothe bag which I emptied with a smile this day. Our older brother's things. I have many a fond memory watching the hand that handled those things ... lining up a pool shot which I had something riding on. Today I could almost hear the trash talk ... and the companionably laughter that chased it around the room. God, I love the sound of a solid break. 
That little scrap of faded paper is a highly prized artifact, documenting membership to the squirrel club. Yep ... you have to climb the fire watch tower at the Coconino National Forrest to scoop up one of those bad boys, least that was so back in the sixties. I can still remember the sheer terror that threatened to empty my little bit of a girl bladder ... right there for all the forest animals to see. I forced my trembling legs to climb while looking down through the metal mesh stairs, that was back before I was old enough to know to look up. Always look up. My big brother raced up the flights and called back to me, "Come on, D ... don't be such a ole sissy pants." Oh yeah ... the lifetime membership to the Honorably Squirrel Club has been so much better then that ... I'm definitely not an ole sissy pants. I sometimes wonder how high those watch towers are ... seemed like it had to be the very tippy top of the world back then. The time softened bit of memorabilia was carefully tucked inside this book of old wheat pennies, my brother carried it in his wallet as a joke ... it was there when his wallet came home.
I love this collection. There is a "first-prize" ribbon attached to the last page ... I think it was some school thing. These pennies make me laugh ... they actually surprised me by hinting at how much laughter I have stored up over the years. Life ... is fun. We all had little collections of pennies and nickels, dimes too. This is the only booklet I have though. We had so much fun with those collections ... using them as magazines of ammo ... coin bullets which we would launch at each other with rubber band sling shots from behind pillow fortresses. Pop and fly ... money everywhere. Flying money made my Momma loud ... plenty of trouble, it was still so funny ... funny enough to fill my heart today. Yeah ... we coulda put an eye out.
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