building

“What is Typist’s deal with all of these glass yogurt containers?” Urania’s distaste for clutter was stronger than her aversion to stale cookies. If you’re gonna eat treats, make ‘em fresh. If you’re gonna squirrel away jars, have a plan for them.

The Muse of Many Questions did not have an answer. Instead she asked, “What’s their possibility?”

Nia crossed her arms. “Recycle… or throw them out.”

“If Typist wanted to recycle the containers, she’d purchase her yogurt in plastic. For some unexplained reason, she pays more for the glass,” Cal said.

“Sssss,” Thalia hissed. “Reasons.” She finished her word with a heavy emphasis on the s.

Nia’s focus on Thalia’s face made it clear she was waiting to hear more.

“First, there is the memory of eating yogurt from glass jars during our trip to San Diego. Emotional attachment?” Thalia shrugged.

“And — they make her, errrr us, feel fancy when she eats them?” Cal asked.

Urania rested her forehead on her palm. In addition to clutter and stale cookies, she had an aversion to emotional displays. “More feelings,” she sighed.

“Do you remember when we painted the studio’s furniture?” asked Cal. “Typist set the pieces atop these little glass jars so that she could paint the bottom edges without painting the new flooring.”

“She’s used them for cut flowers,” Thalia added.

“The tray on the studio’s table has three yogurt jars! One holds paper clips — another colored pencils — and one with butter flavored hard candies. Yummmmm!”

“I did read on the cardboard packaging… Lids for the jars are available for purchase. We could use them to store other stuff I suppose. What about putting tea light candles in them? Let’s cut some Black-eyed Susans to put in one right now.”

“Nicely done,” Cal whispered to Tal.

Tal winked at her partner. Their practice of the art of re-framing had been seen, heard, and adopted. Red handled scissors in her palm, Thalia said, “I’ll be back in a jiffy with those flowers.”