Something like nine hours, all of it restful. As a result, Middlest and I have accomplished much today. My initial goal was to clear two or three small areas and then work on The Albatross, which hasn't seen much attention since I picked up Middlest last summer. Not Middlest's fault; I've just had other priorities. But I've told myself that I can't order the new doll until The Albatross is ready for binding.
What did we do? I sorted through a tub of Beloved's clothing that has been the bottom of a stack by one of the wicker chairs. For the better part of two years, maybe longer. And I was suddenly sick of it. So it's been sorted out, and Middlest has a few new T-shirts, and somebody else will be getting three pairs of cargo shorts, and we threw away anything that was stained or torn. I refilled that tub with painting supplies gathered up from other corners of the living room and out in what used to be the breakfast nook.
Then I started decluttering the area between the other wicker chair and the wall which separates the living room from the kitchen. Drop cloth wound up and stuffed into the trash bag, more painting gear corralled into a second, smaller tub. Next, a shoebox half-filled with minutiae. After that, a bankers box filled with my late mother-in-love's medical records and other documents. There was a lot of interesting juju in that box. Middlest bravely shredded it all in two batches. Finally, I opened a box that said "STUFF @ COMPUTER DESK" in Beloved's handwriting. Inside was my smaller box of missing software (PC Stitch, EQ5, et al), some old bills that needed shredding, and a handful of craft books.
We have been eating all day. The work wasn't particularly physically exerting, except when I was lugging bag after bag out to the recycling bin, or Middlest was holding forth at the shredder. But it required a lot of mental energy to sort things out into keep-recycle-shred piles. I am both wired and exhausted.
I took a bag of stuff to the drop-off place for items which can't be recycled, and I got there two minutes after they closed, so I will have to try again on the second Saturday in February. Which will be here before we know it.
I'm going to download the software and look for an upgrade. And then I'm going to take a shower to sluice off the day's work, take my meds, and call it a day.
- 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!