The bag is going to the trash depot where I will put it on the side of the trash masher container which is where people in Lloyd set things which someone else may be able to use. Cuts out the middleman of the thrift-store transaction.
The box is filled with glassware that has gone unused for so long that it is lined in Lloyd's oily dust. Also, six silver goblet things, tiny, that my mother gave me and I have no idea what they're for and if you melted them down they'd barely make a bracelet, they're so thin. Hell. Maybe I should check those out before I give them away to one of the kids or maybe I should just give them to one of the kids and if they're valuable- all the better. I have no memory of them as a child. Not like a lot of liquors were drunk in my house.
Codeine was the drug of choice.
Anyway, so it's a start. I've also thrown out a bunch of old supplements that no one is taking and made room in another cabinet for stuff that wasn't inside a cabinet that should have been so that is good.
I've boiled shrimp and have the sheets on the bed that I washed this morning and hung on the line. After supper I plan on washing and organizing and throwing away stuff on the little shelf above the sink. I will keep my mermaids and Seminole Indian dolls but honestly, there's some junk up there I don't even know what is.
I went to lunch with Hank and got to see May and went to the library and to Publix and I ordered new underwear off the internet and so, I guess, in some ways this day has been productive enough. I've been using Amazon like the mall and it sure as hell beats the mall.
It's funny. I feel like I never get anything done and it's always this little thing and that little thing but then I look around and see the plants I've repotted and the plants I've just put in the ground (ornamentals- an experiment) and my weeded and mulched garden and my trimmed up palms and somehow, things do get done and will continue to do so. If I would just take one room at a time and go through each and every thing in it and cull and cull and cull, all would be so much better. Most of it came from the Goodwill anyway, even though I do attach emotional value to things I should not.
It's not like I'm a lazy person. I do the yard and some cleaning and of course there's the ongoing things- the cleaning of the hen house, the laundry, the cooking, the shopping, the toilet cleaning, the...oh hell. You know. The stuff of life.
Which someday, when I am old and gnarled up (if that day should come) and unable to do for myself, I will miss with all of my heart. If, of course, I still have enough of a mind to remember any of it.
Well, the husband is home and I need to make some rice and salad to go with that shrimp. And soon he will have the dishwasher truly in and hooked up and the new cabinet door and drawer back in their places and I can get this kitchen organized and by god, I will, and as I've said before, it's needed doing for a long, long time.
I just have to be ruthless. Which is a word that always strikes me as funny because my mother's name was Ruth. And to think of it all at once is overwhelming but let us think of it as one thing/one day at a time and perhaps, eventually, there will be some order.
I was talking to Lis about this yesterday. I mentioned, as an example of the things I don't know what to do with, is the set of blue bowls my mother passed down to me which are beautiful, in a way, but so old that they are cracked and chipped and I wouldn't dare to use one as they are so fragile and what good are they doing me?
"If I threw them away," I told Lis, "I'd probably never remember I had them."
And this is true.
I need to remember that. That things are not really imbued with spirits, no matter how much we feel they are.
They simply are not.
But I ain't throwing away my plastic angel. Or my Seminole Indian dolls. Or my mermaids. Or my madonnas. Or my vase full of sea glass from Cozumel. Or the little ceramic house that one of my kids made me. Or my aprons. Or the ridiculous creche that came with the house with the pissed-off baby Jesus.
Oh shit. See what I'm up against?
I'm up against me. And me can be a right stubborn bitch.