BY MAGGIE BEAMGUARD | Insider Editor
A favorite necklace of mine recently broke apart. I bent over to pick something up from the floor and in my effort to get vertical again, the long piece of costume jewelry snagged on the knob of a drawer. I loved the piece because it was one of those colorful items that goes with everything.
The metal chain pieces and beads are in my “fix it” basket. I can’t bring myself to toss it. They join a growing list of items I plan to get around to – someday.
The basket contains a small collection of other jewelry pieces needing new clasps or jump rings. Those are sprinkled among a disproportionate number of Christmas ornaments and decorations needing glue. One poor, wise man met with an unfortunate decapitation. Unless I can re-cast him as John the Baptist, I need to figure out how to reattach his head.
A pair of breezy linen pants waits for decorative buttons to be resewn along the leg. A pig figurine belonging to my grandmother, who had a real live miniature pig as a pet at one time, needs its curly tail. A wooden, decorative bird needs surgical repair to its wing. A matching pair of lamps lingers near the basket to be rewired.
This assortment of busted miscellany has been growing for at least 10 years. Each time I add something, I’m trusting some future version of me to sit down one day with my tool box, a wide range of adhesives, various gauges of wire, jewelry findings and needle and thread to finally get down to restoration.
But once things go in, they never seem to get out. I’ve got my own miniature Hotel California or Island of Misfit Toys. Sometimes, when I add a new item, I feel a wave of guilt for everything waiting its turn to be mended.
Still, I can’t part with these particular things. They are a reminder. These things earned their place. They were loved and used enough to break. The necklace broke apart while dangling from my neck. The pants lost their buttons while I ran around town. That wise man got knocked off a table during a party. It was the most excitement he had since he came out of the ceramics factory.
While it’s nice to have nice things, it is also great to have used things. Everything has a shelf life. Even us. My fix-it basket is at least a partial archive of mine.
I may get around to rehabilitating its contents. Or I won’t. Because there are always more things to love, more things to break and more things to mend.
Contact Maggie Beamguard at maggie@thepilot.com.
