There was an intervention in my house this weekend. It has been coming. Building. And now I will admit that it was due.
It was a problem that started a few weeks ago. A bad habit that has affected my everyday life. My children have mentioned my problem a few times a day for the past week, sometimes as a joke, sometimes in support and sometimes with concern. This weekend, they told me I had to stop. THIS HAS TO STOP. I was out of control. My seven year old cornered me this morning, addressed the problem and offered alternatives and ways to dig out of the hole I put myself and everyone else agreed.
I have been hoarding acorns.
It started out a few weeks ago when the acorns started appearing all over.
We’ve had a few years with acorn bumper crops since living in our current house. My kids and I have enjoyed collecting certain kinds each year in our post supper time walks. One year we only picked up “baby twins” and deposited our find in the unused lower newspaper section of our mailbox on our return home. On years that there was not a bumper crop we would celebrate finding one or two acorns on a walk.
This year I decided to pick up one or two of the most perfect acorns I would see on my walk. Since we don’t have any sort of fence for the dog yet, I might take 5 or 6 walks a day, and sometimes I couldn’t help but pick up more than one or two very perfect acorns and would bring home four or five or nine. This adds up. My kids and I look over my haul when I return home from walks, acorns were approved and critiqued, we picked which ones we liked the best and then the kids would be over it and I’d still be looking at the acorns.
At the beginning of last week I collected all of the acorns in the house and put them onto my desk. I had squirreled acorns away in jacket pockets, window sills, near the coffee maker, in my purse, in the car cup holders, on my dresser and nightstand, and the dining room hutch. Seeing the pile on my desk is what caused the kids to start to get nervous about it. I guess there is a lot.
I did not pick up any more acorns today. That’s totally a fib, I did pick some up, BUT I looked, appreciated and dropped them back down, and I’m okay with that. I am ready to let go. It was suggested we make the collection an offering to the local squirrels. Or we plant them and see if they grow (or are dug up by the aforementioned squirrels). I think the final decision is to do a little of both of those ideas.
The oak tree is an icon of strength. Therefore acorns represent potential, the potential of something small to turn into something that might stand huge and grand. I like that. But I LOVE how different all of the acorns look. They come in all sorts of sizes, shapes and colors, and all of them look like cute little pixie heads with hats. I love that a lot. I love that some are round, some are long, some are flat, and I love that no matter what the shape or size, they could all turn out to be the giant tree. I love that they can come in pairs of any two sizes matched up together, and that they can be shiny, dull or sort of furry. They are neat for me to look at. I always think I’ll find a hard pit, seed or nut when I pull them apart and look inside, but it’s softer, like rotten wood. I like that surprise too. I won’t get dramatic and personify these acorns or compare them to children and their differences and potentials, but I won’t say that I don’t think about that sometimes too.
Tomorrow before the bus stop my acorns will be freed to the yard. I thought about keeping one or two, but I couldn’t pick favorites. And I still might pick some acorns up on a walk and carry them around a little, but I’m going to try to empty my pockets at the front door and leave the potential outside. At least until the next bumper crop.