Sparkles

I've never been much of a girly girl. I don't wear make-up, I don't wear jewelry 90% of the time, but yet I'm not a complete tom boy. I don't watch sports, I don't know anything about cars, etc. I always felt there was a healthy balance. This weekend that balance tipped and fell over.

The girliness outshined everything. Why did this happen? I went home over the long weekend to visit with my parents while The Boy enjoyed the debauchery of Vegas. I enjoy visiting my parents immensely and usually have a good time while there. This weekend proved that theory correct. However, one activity filled all of my time. I cleaned, sorted, and bagged jewelry. More jewelry that I've ever seen or touched in my entire life put together.

In one day we went through 300 small bags, my mom has used over 700 price labels, the world was spinning with gold, pearls, silver, and rhinestones. It was a glitzy, shiny, sometimes gaudy affair.

My grandmother had a house full of stuff when she died and none of it was organized, sorted, together, etc. It was a hodge podge, a mish-mash of items. Matching earings were in different cases (there were over 15 cases), pins, earings, and necklaces were not stored properly and lost their stones, items tarnished over time, they were tangled, mangled, and unloved. We brought some back to their previous luster, we threw some in the garbage, and my parents have had some repaired to a fabulous state.

During my perusing, I began to covet some pieces. My mother contributed to this desire by saying, "I held this aside so you could see if you liked it and want it." I liked and wanted many pieces and I now have a fine jewelry collection. I earned my "pay" this weekend. I did nothing but work with this jewelry from the time I came home until the time I left. My mother, however, has persevered much longer than I- she's been at it a month already. I think she felt that there was never an end in sight. However, when I spoke with her last, one could finally see the living room floor and the dining room table was becoming a place where people could perchance eat some time.

Tomorrow is a private sale for a few friends of my mom's. Then Friday is a larger private sale and Saturday is the public sale. I just think it's a shame that the 100 plus boxes of dolls aren't worth and most can't be restored to usuable, desireable states. They will remain orphans in boxes tucked away in garages. Alas, sometimes only beauty finds a home.