First off, a shoutout to Bruce Cockburn. Today’s headline is ripped straight from one of his songs. It’s actually the title track of his 1983 release.
By the time my office gets to its new normal, it’ll be better. But right now, it’s worse, even though I hauled a bunch of stuff out yesterday. Some went to the trash. Some went into boxes for the neighborhood rummage sale we’re holding this summer. Mom & Dad’s record collection is downstairs because my pal Ronn is going to digitize a bunch of them before I toss or donate the rest.
Grace hung out with me yesterday and got me to throw away things I might not otherwise have done, and when she left, I got lost in a box of Mom’s stuff before I really went nuts.
She saved everything, and multiple copies of it. I found four of these.
Then Sweetheart came home and started working in the laundry room. (I’d gotten it sparkly last year. He filled it up. When I told him what I was going to do this week and asked him to take a few days off – after I’d gotten a running start – he said he was going to start there.)
When he came upstairs to tell me it was time to go to Cindy & Andy’s for dinner, I’d moved on from the box of treasures I’d found in one of Mom’s boxes and was hard into removing paper clips and fasteners from grad school papers and tossing the remains onto the floor (I’d already filled the recycling bags) to box up and haul off.
That’s where I’ll start this morning, as soon as I’m back from buying a pound of coffee and dropping off fresh blueberries at the nursing home and collecting a hug from Mom. (I have not told her I am off work this week, because she would want me to hang out with her and I have to get this done. I will spend some time with her, but not until that room is the way I want it.)
the sentence factory 