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A Bread Bag Full of Lint

by on August 29, 2020

I have a bread bag full of lint.  Not just any old lint.  Oh no.  I could never possibly have just any old, ordinary, commonplace lint.  

Mine is a bag of soft, velvety, warm, comforting, billowy, deep purple lint bestowed upon me this evening by my housemate.  Somehow they knew I’d appreciate such a peculiar treasure.  They haven’t known me that long, and really don’t know me all that well yet.  But I’m trying to be my Self around them, as idiosyncratic as my Self can be. 

The aforementioned bag of lint now resides in one of my bedside tables, in the drawer with other items that distract, relax, and bring me bits of happy. 

Some people have firearms in their bedside tables, or other, less mentionable items.  Contraband even.  Not me.  

I not only have a brand new bag of lint, but in this drawer I also have an unwrapped bar of all natural, gardenia soap.  A spray bottle of patchouli.  A fidget spinner.  A pair of drumsticks.  Drum pads.  Sour gummy candies.  Sour hard candies.  Colorful pens and markers.  Lavender essential oil.  A puffy stress ball that looks just like the tomato pin cushion from the 70s.  A bag of Bombay Spice crunchy chickpeas.  An Andrew Yang “Humanity First” pin-on button.  

It’s the little things I adore.  The bags of fluffy, purple lint.  

Earlier this evening one of two Senior Dachsunds in my home upchucked on the $10 heavy, warm, soft purple throw blanket my housemate recently purchased at an estate sale.  Since I was about to do a load of laundry, I offered to wash the throw with my clothes.  This made my housemate seemingly happy, since they earlier were angered when discovering doggie puke on the blanket.  

Dog vomit doesn’t sicken or annoy me.  Not the vomit of my own dog, nor the vomit of any other. I’ve loved a lot of dogs in my life, and sadly have fewer in my life lately due to reasons beyond my control.  Their body waste doesn’t upset me; stuff comes out of everyone at some point.  It’s just stuff, and it shouldn’t make anyone angry. 

Dogs are happy in the moment.  It takes so little to please them, especially if their basic needs are met.  Whether a tasty little treat, a mangled, soggy toy, or a quick walk around the block to relieve bodily functions, dogs know how to be content.  I’m not exactly sure when dogs are happy or excited about something.  But when I walk in the front door by myself, or out that same door with the doggie for a walk, every dog I’ve ever known seems completely thrilled.  Thrilled with the little things.  

So what does a middle-aged, autistic woman do with a bag of lint?  Mostly very little I’m guessing.  But at the moment I’ve recently enjoyed plunging my hand into the bag – deep within the fluffy goodness of the blanket’s gift to me.  I might later admire the deeply calming purple hue.  I’ve already reached into the bag several times, lightly tossing the linty contents up and down in the palm of my hand.  Some call it stimming, others call it fidgeting.  I don’t quite know what to call it yet, being new to Autism Spectrum Disorder and my own eccentric, interesting behaviors.  

I’ve also pondered releasing the lint into the wild so birds can line their nests with it.  But I’m also a little concerned about dyes and anything else birds may not like when scavenging human leftovers. 

But for now, I’ll ponder why someone else’s refuse thrilled me tonight, and wish others could be as happy as I am over a bag full of leftover lint. 

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  1. I really enjoyed this, and am now thinking of rummaging through drawers I haven’t opened in who knows how long. I’m wondering if I will find the same reason to keep something as I must have had when I put it in safe keeping. It hasn’t changed, whatever it is, but perhaps I have. How often do we fail to acknowledge our changes as we look at things and wonder why we ever kept them?


    • danarenee71 permalink

      I agree Marco. I’ve changed so much over the years and I’ve also downsized several times.

      Yesterday I spent three hours cleaning out and organizing my closet and drawers. It’s incredible to see what I can accumulate in just several months – mostly shiny, interesting objects I plan to use for art projects.

      Early this morning I ripped apart the seams of a beautiful, red hand-beaded dress given to me by a drag queen. I’ll never wear the dress, but it’s so shimmery and glittery I wanted the fabric for something. I may do nothing aside from admiring the fabric. We’ll see.


  2. Ray Rivers permalink


    Ray Z. Rivers 445 Mountsberg Rd., Campbellville ON L0P 1B0 Home and Mobile – 905-659-2069


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