Jan. 10, 2005 - 19:52 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

Excitement

Our family is moving in its mysterious ways, and has been for some time, to put on a bang up birthday party for Heather's eightieth, which will be this coming weekend.

Our Oregon daughter will be here with us, just as she was for my eightieth birthday party. She and Heather would sit back in the bedroom, plan and giggle like two teenage girls up to something. They managed to do enough shopping that daughter will bring two suitcases, one full of stuff for Heather's party and the other part full I suppose.

Son has made arrangements to use the hall at his church which is in our end of town. It has enough tables, chairs and the use of the kitchen too.

I can't do much anymore about getting a party together. Used to be that I could carry chairs, put tables up and push buggy loads of food and dishes all the stuff a woman needs a man to do. Anymore I am so damnably limited on that sort of thing.

So I have the once hateful job, about the only thing left that I can do and do in time. That is polish the silverware.

I never had the slightest inkling of how lucky I was as a kid. A small two room house we lived in, quick and easy to clean. The family silverware was what I would call "a short set," knives, forks, spoons and one serving ladle. And the good thing, I realized later, was that it was in constant use. I never knew what tarnished silver was.

Over the years Heather and I have accumulated silverware that gets stored until time to get ready for another occasion -- tarnishing all the time it sits. I am going to check and see if there are not some kind of bags or wrap to put the darn stuff in for storage that will hinder tarnish from forming. Someone else got the silverware polished for my eightieth birthday party, guess one could say that was an early present to me.

Among the distasteful chores that irritate me, polishing silver is right next to washing the dishes by hand. Only it takes longer and necessitates my constant inspection to make sure I haven't missed a spot anywhere. Keeps me tied to that spot 'til it is done, not allowing me to woolgather, lollygag and look out the window to see the world passing by.

But this time I am happy to polish silver getting ready for Heather's eightieth birthday party. My smiling face is reflected in the sheen on freshly polished silverware. In my very soul there is great Excitement . . . . .

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