So, a week into spring, and what have I been up to?
Well, there’s the classic seasonal activity: Spring cleaning. Which in my house these days means opening every drawer, every cabinet, every closet, and subjecting every item to a “Stay or go” ultimatum. We need to clear out before the renovation demolition begins on at the end of May, which feels like it’s about 48 hours away, especially when I see what I have still to offload and pack up and move out, and especially when I wake up at 3AM wondering how it will all be done in time.
And yet, we’ve renovated often enough to know that it will all get packed away or dragged away or otherwise offloaded. There’s the Salvation Army and Big Brothers/Big Sisters, and there’s Gentle Giants and short term storage. And where we live, there’s the complete benefit of being able to put some stuff out on the sidewalk and just having it disappear to a happy new home. I’m always pleased when something that still has life in it gets snatched up from the “Free Stuff” box out front.
Meanwhile, there’s the part of the decanting process, of a couple of lifetimes of living under one roof, that is as much archeological dig as anything. Take the cabinets on our first floor that have held our audio life: stereo, AM/FM receiver, CD player. Yes, there’s still a cassette player in there. Most of the shelves were filled, towards the front, anyhow, with CDs, divvied up into in categories: women’s voices, jazz, classical, movie soundtracks, Broadway tunes. Honestly, too much real estate devoted to what fits on an iPod these days. So as I emptied the CDs into boxes, looking to see which jewel cases still have the CD inside, which are extra copies, which need to be donated to the college radio station down the street or given away…well, what was hidden behind the CDs was a treasure trove of things from days gone by.
Here’s just a few of the things I’ve bumped into along the way:
Video tapes and audio cassettes. Really, what to do? I suppose there’s a CD version of E.B. White reading Charlotte’s Web out there somewhere, but there’s something about the memory of listening in the car, having to flip sides every twenty minutes…long rides were good with books on tape. Actual tape! And no one will ever voice Templeton the Rat quite like Andy White himself. My favorite quote, from the fairground scene: “This place is a rat’s paradise!” Amen!
My Filofax. Remember Filofaxes? Honestly, I kind of liked being able to pencil in new addresses; make little notes about who I need to send a Christmas cards to. Now, every time I get a new phone, I’m at the mercy of the tech guy to get the actual mailing addresses transferred intact. Hmm. I might resurrect that portion of my little black book…
Parenting books. By the boatload. Did I really feel like I needed all these? Apparently yes. It gives me a great deal of pleasure to box these up and send them elsewhere. Unless there’s a book out there about how to get your 23 year old mortgage-qualified, we’re done here. Hallelujah!
Oh, and yes, I read “Who’s Calling the Shots?” before I knew that the author was Matt Damon’s mom.
Binkies. A ziplock sandwich bag full of binkies. Apparently I hid these from myself, as well as from whoever I suspected might not have been able to quit them cold turkey. A mere two decades ago…frightening.
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So, that’s what I’ve been up to. Well, actually, that’s just one of my current project management assignments. The other major one has to do with my creaky joints and ache-y back. And hip. And various other body parts. Which is boring and makes me feel crabby when I bring it up, but it’s a project to be tackled, that’s for sure. And it explains why my calendar for the upcoming week includes a PT appointment, a Salvation Army delivery, an MRI, and a Big Brothers/Big Sisters pick-up, in that order. Oh, and a reservation for four, to celebrate my baby’s 21st birthday.