About Me

My photo
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!

Monday, August 12, 2013

Moby Dick.

Now decaying in a trash can near you. Younger Twin and his eldest came over after church yesterday and helped me triage the freezer and the freezing compartments of both refrigerators. They took the good stuff home, with my blessing. Grandson cheerfully schlepped the freezer burned stuff out to the trash can.

Tomorrow is trash day. That can will be ripe by the time the truck gets here. It was 105°F in the garage while we were working. All the cats in my neighborhood will be singing the Trash Can Blues when I get home tonight. It's likely to be as bad as when we came home from MD Anderson last year to find that the freezer door had come open and everything was ruined.

If Beloved had lived, we would have long since gone through all this meat and fish. I ate more meat in that brief year than I had probably consumed during the previous decade.

Saturday night, after music practice and scripture study, I still had a few ounces of energy left. So I opened one of the drawers in the desk by my bed and cleaned it out. Easy peasy.

I opened the next one. Discovered two rifle cleaning kits and miscellaneous ammo. Started a giveaway bag. Also several partial packages of batteries, all now transferred to the junk drawer in the kitchen with their cousins.

Opened a third drawer. Light bulbs. Lots and lots more light bulbs. Enough to fill a third plastic dishpan. And I just happened to know where one was. I will now have to wait for my next OCD eruption (politicians have bimbo eruptions; I get smacked upside the head by the Categorization Fairy) to take the two previously organized dishpans of light bulbs out of the linen closet and re-sort all three by type.

I did not tackle the fourth and final drawer on Saturday night. Yesterday I dumped its contents into a box lid and dragged the desk out into the hall along with the small bookcase which has resided upon it for the past several months. The shallow black bookcase now fills the space perfectly. And the hall where it stood is that much more navigable. The boys hauled off the desk and small bookcase and most of the fisherman themed knickknacks.

Now I just need to figure out what to do with the box of geriatric sparklers and related items I found in the back of the closet. Because I'm certainly not keeping them. I do not need Chinese New Year going off in my boudoir and ruining a perfectly good night's sleep.

Or my favorite T-shirts.

1 comment:

Tola said...

save them for new year's