About Me

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Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!

Sunday, July 28, 2013

Progress. No, really.

I mucked out the linen closet yesterday. And under the desk by my bed. Emptied both of those plastic dishpans. They now hold light bulbs.

There is one small basket of rags, neatly corralled. I have about half of the cleaning supplies, beauty supplies, and otherwise noxious chemicals gathered onto a single shelf.

I found the rest of the short blue glasses. They will go to Squishy. Along with a large box of photographs. The green towels have gone to Fourthborn.

A travel iron is now with my carry-on bag. I found a third iron, this one reminiscent of the Starship Enterprise. Keeping it.

The rest of the towels in that closet, everything not a wedding gift but still in excellent condition, has gone to charity along with the crutches and the walker. And I mean gone to charity, as in loaded into the truck and dropped off.

I found another first aid kit, uncharacteristically filled with expired ointments and potions. I will remedy that.

When I was cleaning out under the desk,  I found a large paper bag with three unopened boxes of Lovenox (anticoagulant, for the blood clots in Beloved's lungs that were caused by chemo). I had found a handful of loose syringes when cleaning off/out his desk that I had set aside, and some insulin syringes for his late wife. I bundled it all up and took it to the fire station.

I never know what is going to start the waterworks. Apparently talking to kind young (gorgeous) men is a trigger. Those guys were so good to Beloved, the two trips to ER when they came and got him. I thanked them for that (not the first time). Who knew that a fire station could become holy ground?

Of all the stuff I hauled out of the linen closet, very little went into the trash. Lots of non-personal paper from the two dishpans. The rattiest of the rags. But I still managed to half-fill the bin. Two or three times as much stuff got re-homed.

The linen closet is now usable. I need to do two loads of laundry for me, and a couple more for sheets that I can then donate. They're clean, but they have that funky, unaired smell. If I bend the Sabbath, I can get that all done before bedtime and throw the two big hampers into the back of the truck for next weekend.

Got a little knitting done. Not as much as I would have liked, but some. And bought my banjo picks and a guitar stand on sale. More knitting will happen today. But now it's time for breakfast.

1 comment:

Tola said...

God knows your heart. wash the linen and prepare it for donation.