Assorted Schmutz From the Bottoms of My Shoes

  I went to a catholic elementary school. I got to wear an awesome little maroon and gray plaid jumper. Every day. For 9 years. That's right. Very fashionable. On the plus side, I didn't need to worry about being fashionable, everyone was dressed like a dork. But I wore those things for 9 years. 9 YEARS! And recently when my mother pulled out one of my old uniforms and gave it to me I was moved to tears. OK, that's a huge exaggeration, but I did giggle and remember those years fondly. And then what did I do with the uniform? That reminder of my youth, that wonderful symbol of all my years at a school overrun by nuns?

Did I lovingly preserve it, wadding folding it carefully and placing it into my cedar chest? Did I use it to make
a quilt with bits of cloth from my childhood? Did I incorporate it into a scrapbook with memories from those years?

Or did I just toss it carelessly in the trash?

Actually, a combination of the two. I made a garbage bag. Yes, that's right. I cut it up and made a nice little bag out of it and it hangs in my car for tossing in bits of paper, fast food wrappers, lollypop sticks, tags and assorted schmutz from the bottoms of my shoes. It even still has the iron-on patch with my school's initials on it - the same patch that graced my flat elementary school girl chest for 9 years. And now it has a place of honor (of a sort). A place where I see it daily. Where I can pause and reflect on my youth, my education, my friendships. Where, with a single glance I can relive the many wonderful memories gathered at that school,
much like one gathers garbage in a bag.

Disclaimer: Despite what you might think after reading this, I did have an enjoyable experience at said school, didn't mind the uniforms for the most part and have nothing but happy memories of my time there. The garbage bag is in no way a reflection of my years there, or any sort of commentary on nuns or religion or Catholicism in general.  :)

Quack!