Horsehair Cheer

Yesterday morning, I was feeling melancholy. It’s spring, but it’s still cold outside. Also, I have a slight cold, which is always a nuisance. I’m juggling too many things between work and church, plus freelance obligations that keep slipping my mind. The house, as I think I’ve mentioned before, is perpetually messy—particularly when I am busier than I should be and I succumb to the lure of the computer (Facebook, email, blog—mine and others’), like right now!

Since western New York insists on staying in the 30s most of these March days, I begrudgingly donned a fuzzy sweater, a velvety skirt, and a pair of thick tights (winter weather grants me one small favor: the option of not shaving my legs). I was deciding between two pairs of clogs to complete my outfit when I decided I needed to seek out some shoe polish. I think I’ve mentioned before that my house is messy (!), and things often get misplaced around here. But I do try! And once in awhile, my housekeeping efforts reward me. This was such an occasion. I found the shoe polish—exactly where I’d left it last, in its labeled bin. Amazing! Almost miraculous, actually. But even more surprising to me was the morale boost that accompanied the find. A sentimental sense of security swept over me when I grasped the horsehair applicator brush I’d tucked away with the polish.

It reminded me of the small wooden kit my aforementioned ‘fastidious father’ kept for maintaining a respectable gleam to his footwear. Fairly frequently, Dad would sit down in “his chair” (doesn’t every living room have a designated “Dad chair”?), open the kit, pull out the polishes, brushes and rags, and methodically make over his shoes—from dingy to dapper. When he was finished, he’d set the shoes by the woodstove to dry and deliberately replace the contents of the kit, which sat in a nook of the room near his chair. It might sound silly, but the sight of my own horsehair shoe polish brush cheered me up yesterday. It brought back memories of a household ritual, an ordinary routine I’d observed as a girl.

Sometimes, it’s the simplest things that bring us back to center. Breathe in, breathe out. Wax on, wax off. “Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Here’s two versions of a song by that title from the University of Iowa Gospel Choir, “Voices of Soul"—a dear friend of mine sang with this group 2007-08:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Uyp5rTDXIw&feature=PlayList&p=53E2CF8AEB6E3D7F&index=0

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQ9svuB8siI