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Yesterday I spent eight hours of the twenty-four hour day searching for my birth certificate. No, I didn’t need it for a specific reason and I didn’t go into this expedition with that thought on my mind, but in the event of trying to lay my hands on two missing insurance policies, I came across H’s birth certificate I had meant to re-file a few months ago. That’s when the wheels started turning.

I found the folder marked ‘Important Personal Family Papers’ empty. Birth certificates should probably come under that heading, don’t you think? Where is my birth certificate? And where is Andrew’s? I was pretty sure I knew where Andrew’s was and H’s was in my hand.

I slipped H’s birth certificate and his original tattered social security card in the folder and proceeded to shuffle through files looking for mine with the thought of those insurance papers lingering in the in the back of my mind.

Sorting through that box of unorganized files I found slips of paper, old newspapers, and artifacts I wondered why I ever kept. When you come across a newspaper dated twelve years ago it’s disturbing not knowing why it’s in your file drawer. Short of reading the whole paper until you come across the article you might have saved it for, there’s nothing you can do except put it in your TBR (to be read) file. This saved a little time, but now I have a folder of old newspapers to sort out. How long would it have actually taken me to cut the important article out when it is published? A lot less time than the two hours it will probably take me to decipher this code!

Once the box of files had been thoroughly stripped of all nonsense, I pulled down a big storage box from the top shelf of the closet thinking my birth certificate could be in it. After having moved so much in the past years I could actually see it in my mind’s eye sitting nestled in that box because it’s the one I always put important papers in before I got organized and had a file drawer. Yeah, I just said organized didn’t I? You know what I mean.

The trip down memory lane had been unplanned and unexpected as long forgotten pictures spilled from the box. There was one of my dad and Andrew I had been looking for and a few of Jessie when she was a baby. I don’t have as many picture of young Jessie because she was the fourth in line of girls and the baby from my first marriage. We have oodles of Andrew because he was a whole different ballgame being a boy and H’s first and only child.

As I made individual files for the kids I snapped pictures of pictures and sent through text to them knowing  they would get as much of a kick out of seeing these mementos again as I did. I wonder if Terri and Kerri would like to have their baby teeth I had rescued from the tooth fairy. By the time the others came along I guess I had given up that practice – or didn’t have the time. You know how it is with the first child. You save everything! I found cards and letters from Amie that made me cry (happy tears) when I read them. She was always good at that. That little trip down memory lane took some time and effort, but was a nice break in my search.

After having no luck in my search in that box, I went through the folders in my desk drawers. Andrew’s orange folder was in there and in the pocket of it was his birth certificate just as I had expected. This folder has everything important for Andrew in it or written on it. It’s orange, hence, ‘Andrew’s Orange Folder.’ I started it when he went off to college. It has his student ID number, financial aid info, passwords and user names to his different accounts, his social security number, drivers’ license number, and just about every phone number to Troy’s offices I may need. With all this info there isn’t a square inch of blank space on the front of that folder and it’s bursting it’s seams with papers. If he needs it – I have it. Heaven forbid if he were to keep up with all that info himself.

Still no sign of my birth certificate though. I gathered all my files and boxes and put them back in their rightful places in the Philadelphia Room and before leaving the room I picked up a pile of papers stacked on the dresser by the door. That’s where I found my birth certificate! Shoved between some recipes and an envelope containing some legal papers I should probably keep. I vaguely remember placing them on that pile when I took H’s out a few months ago and telling myself I would refile them when I finished with his. Now we all know that never happened!

They say when you lose something it’s always going to be found in the last place you look, but I had literally exhausted all my options and there was no other place it could be. I never did find those two insurance policies, but I can honestly say my files are now in order!



In the beginning

Very funny and creative! This is sure one way to get some Facebook likes! Wonder if it would work for me Curtis? ~Elle



  1. In the beginning, Zucker said, ‘Let there be Facebook,’ and there was Facebook. Zucker saw that Facebook was good, and He separated profiles from pages and said, ‘Go figure, you schmucks.’
  2. And verily Curtis tried to figure, and eventually he did, and he set up a profile and then created a page.
  3. And on the page was written Create Page@username, and when Curtis tried to modify this, Zucker said unto him, ‘Thou art not eligible.’
  4. And Curtis wept, for ineligible means ‘not allowed to do or have something according to particular rules’, yet he knew not what the rules were.
  5. And Curtis prayed to Zucker and beseeched Him to reveal the rules, but Zucker said, ‘Go figure, you schmuck.’
  6. So Curtis went and figured.
  7. And the rule was, ‘Thou shalt not modify Create Page@username till thy page has been liked 25 times.’
  8. And Curtis wept, for his page had…

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