I knew it was time to take down a perfectly good bathroom cabinet. My visual issues are such that I no longer have depth perception. I just can’t see the edges of things until I bump into them. That cabinet was a concussion waiting to happen.

So we took it down, and to my surprise, behind it, found a small patch of old wallpaper. Huh. It must be from the house’s previous owners, some 25 years ago.

It’s got rows of elephants, festooned in gold, red and black, marching in formation. They even seem to be wearing hats and shoes!

It occurred to me that SueBE would think of this as an interesting archaeological dig and excavate the facts until she determined who put up that wallpaper. She could probably even figure out what era the artwork was from.

Lori would see the poetry in the henna-red, dancing elephants. She’d find a spiritual metaphor in their perfect symmetry and solidarity.

When I look at it, I find the humor in it. “I hope the ones in front of me know where they’re going, cuz I’m plum lost!” Or maybe this animal team is the pachyderm version of the Rockettes. The Trunkettes?

Seeing through other people’s eyes is the key to community. Also compassion. Sometimes even comedy. I like this tiny swatch of history and humor so much that I’ve decided to leave it up on the wall. It’s a way to do what’s right for me (take down the cabinet so I don’t bump into it) and to enjoy a quirky artifact. Sure, it’s got a few flaws and dings, but don’t we all? Yep. I think it’s a keeper.