There is something comforting about a Grandmothers heavy old wool sweater and things that Parents and Uncles leave on their way out of this world. That is why I can never fathom the heirs being terrified of the dead's clothes and not taking comfort from the most intimate aspects of their presence here.
When my beloved Uncle went to Heaven, he had in his pocket a 9 penny nail and the trapper knife I had given him. He was most impressed with that knife, as I had been helping him do things that summer and noted his knife was broken blades, so Christmas arrived and the got a knife.
It was stained of asparagus sap as he always picked it wild and one of my most terrifying memories as a child was his trimming my fingernails with another knife..........all are fond memories.
When my namesake was middle aged, his mentor, who was an old trapper named Fred, died, and left him what most would consider worthless in a 10 x 50 pair of binoculars which did not focus and and old trappers coat with deep pockets in the front.
I have a picture of that old coat and Uncle wore that thing until it wore out.
On my sofa here, I have my Uncle's castrating coat, as that is what he did in working livestock, and I retrieved it before my aunt who was burning everything burned it up.
It was a horrific thing in covered with blood from dehorning and other things, no zipper, but it too had those marvelous deep pockets, so frayed and falling apart, it is my treasure as are all things he left me, as they remind me of him, and I can put them on and take him along when I go off and play.
Yesterday I was suckered in a thrift store into buying something that reminded me of Uncle. It was a Carhartt coat, with just the right wear, spots and fray..........and what sold me were those deep pockets.
Few things piss me off worse than losing pliers or knives out of my pockets........and deep pockets cure that. I have no idea why deep, big pockets are no longer the norm, no more than corduroy coats that you could not move in, but make you look like an Eskimo. They were all quite comforting and the world was better off with them in this place.
I'm puzzled about my coat though, as it has not "things" in the pockets. yet it seems sun bleached. See in my pockets you will find rocks..........I have no idea, but my Gram loved picking up worthless little rocks which were pretty and I have that same strange trait in I am always picking up worthless rocks..........well mine are not worthless as I'm a worthless rock snob in I only pick up lightning diamonds..........or what I refer to sand fused by lightning into a sort of glassy flint..........it does not matter if I made that up geologically, as my version is much more sexy than just glassy rocks that are pretty shades of brown like sugar daddy's and horehound candy...........I fidget a great deal and rolling rocks around in my pockets helps keep my hyper state from getting out of the gate too soon.
This coat though has no things in it.........no grain kernels from feeding birds, no weed seeds from hunting, no old nails picked up so you don't get a flat tire..........just a city type guy kind of coat which is puzzling and distressing.
My pockets are adventures as I have horse treats in them, sometimes wooden staples for posts, sometimes rocks.......most times rocks, and at times I have "finds" like coneflower seeds, apples I pick up and forget........even a roll of electric tape........pockets should have adventures of where you have been.........in one of my pockets I have a bent 22 magnum casing I found in a parking lot.
You just are not living life unless you are like Throw Mama from the Train in that box of worthless stuff Danny Divito had which were memories of places he had been.
I think this coat will be better and happier if I spill some lure in it..........animal lures for trapping can be quite interesting in perfume for people carry numbers of the same ingredients......never know, as it might have the scent of autumn in it too in time........maybe a fish house.......maybe a smokehouse in that wonder of hardwood and meat which is thee most lovely of scents ever devised.
Those are all things I remember from a childhood past..........Grandpas house with a woodstove, Uncles beaver pelts drying in a room, that musty smell of old cellars and snuff as Grandpa always chewed Copenhagen which I thankfully never developed a taste for.
I feel bad for the owner of that coat, as he never had anyone who apparently gave a damn about the important things........probably why his pockets were all clean in he never picked up any of the dirt in life which people accumulate that makes living fun.
I lost my pliers I found from when I was a child, out of a coat with shallow pockets. Am still pissed about that, as I ground one end down and had a pliers........made a hell of a weapon in a pinch too, but I would never admit to that as officer I'm just an nobody you know and nobody's aren't worth noticing.....and I still hope God lets me refind that thing, because now I have a deep pocket coat as unless you are going for the things which are important in life with the right people or right life, you just are shallow pocketed and going to lose the good things you do try to hold onto.
I just figured out those deep pockets are telling me a pistol would be right at home with them, sort of lonesome without it in fact.......will have to rectify that as that coat has lived too long without having someone with a deep Spirit collecting things for those deep pockets.
agtG
