Monday, June 13, 2011
Mother made us carry the sun-bleached horse bones back to the truck. We were at a picnic, somewhere in Texas. One of my old step-dad's distant relatives had killed and was roasting a pig. My mother happened upon horse bones, scattered in a field; for her this was hitting the jackpot. I didn't want to help haul the bones, but what choice did I have?
Today I put the bones, labeled so that a child can reconstruct the leg, and skull in a box. When my mother retired from teaching, she passed them on to me. I also have her fossils, writing rubrics, rock collections, 24 cards, and seedpods. Works that I have made also go into the boxes. I pack homemade lung model, polydensity bottle, toy bicycles made of trash, and other treasures collected for the classroom . Things that I've collected, and things that my mother collected fill box after box.