Inside My Grammar Drawer of a Head -by Jane Everham
Many years ago, a very artsy/crafty friend of mine opened a chic craft store called Snoggers in the Grammar Drawer.
“The what in the what drawer,” I asked incomprehensively.
“Snoggers in the Grammar Drawer,” she coolly replied. You know those things you find lying around your house that really don’t belong anywhere, and so you stick them in that drawer until you figure out where they go, which of course you never do? Those things are snoggers and that drawer is the grammar drawer.
“Ah, yes.” I actually have many grammar drawers in my house. Probably one in each room. And to open one with the expectation of sorting and cleaning it makes me dizzy, so usually I just quickly close the drawer. Walk into my house and most days you will be impressed with how neatly lived-in it is. But oh, those drawers and not to mention the cupboards where I hide things that don’t fit in the drawer.
Now for the grammar drawer inside my head. If you could see inside my head! Chaos reigns and it is often my daily Sisyphus challenge to organize my way out. I do allow in way too much information – some stays, some moves and morphs around, and a lot drops out. I resemble terms like “Teflon brain,” “self-cleaning brain,” and “Swiss cheese brain.” The biggest bummer is I have no power over what stays and what disappears. For example, I can still perfectly sing a 1956 political jingle that I learned when I was six, but when asked to describe the plot of the novel I just finished, I’m at sea. I do make To Do Lists and lose them often enough that I sometimes make Done Lists just to give structure to my life, if even in reverse. That communication cable between the thought I want to express and the words that come out of my mouth looks like a tangled strand of Christmas lights. Recently at a potluck, I asked for a “corrugated” knife with which to cut a loaf of bread. I got the “serrated” knife and a big belly laugh from my friend.
Recently, I was in the presence of two very linear, organized, clear thinking colleagues, and no, I didn’t see smoke steaming from the crown of their heads, but there should have been smoke! Their brains were cooking, and splendid ideas were emerging as if straight off a lengthy and well-organized list. It astounded me to witness and reminded me of just how different we all are, and I wistfully reminded myself that it takes us all to make the world go around, even if it means some of us provide more humor than progress.
Jane grew up in the Chicago suburbs in the 50's and 60's. She moved to Colorado to attend Denver University. . After earning an Educational Specialist degree in School Psychology at UNC, she worked for 34 years in the public schools in Cheyenne, Wyoming and Fort Collins. After retirement in 2011, she has spent her time volunteering with the Larimer League of Women Voters, Foothills Unitarian Church, and progressive politics. She loves to have lunch with friends, reads voraciously, and travels.
