Storage

Saint Anthony and I have been in a lot of communication during the last week, he being the patron saint of lost things.
I have been praying to him daily.

It's now after fifteen months in the Dower House that I'm looking for things which I want and can no longer find. Given that there is limited space in which things can hide, it is a mystery that anything can evade detection.
Of course there is the possibility that they no longer reside here and that I have given them away and have forgotten.
This is not so unlikely: the remembering part of my brain is like a computer hard drive that is is past its sell by date.

In the pursuit of a peaceful mind and with the help of his Lordship, every cupboard and wardrobe was searched this morning to find the missing articles.
It was to no avail, except the finding of a missing book which turned up in a box stored on an inaccessibly high shelf. I have to presume that the rain jacket and my uncle's war medals are safe in other hands.
I will need to check with the family before I can rest.

However we acquainted ourselves with the contents of stored boxes which held the detritus of hoarding- plugs, adaptors, light fittings, empty boxes for cameras, christmas tree lights, bike paraphernalia, and strangest of all, my old washing line pegs in their bag which somehow I couldn't bear to throw away after their years of service in a garden with a wash line- useless now, but hard to discard.

A bit of dusting and everything was put back including the peg bag, so that in another year I will have forgotten again where I have stored things.

I can't begin to imagine where the people who live on this boat on the canal store things. It must be a tribute to minimalist living.