There They Sit.

There they sit. Boxes filled with yesterdays. Photos, school work, letters and cards, ancestors with no name and other memories I put away without reading or looking at. The past was planted firmly away in the middle of everyday cluttered life's moments.

I brought them upstairs to make room for the move in. I had forgotten what some of them contained. Slowly I will open them, pick them up and try to breathe. Just thinking about what I will find takes my breath away. One small box hasn't been opened since my mom died in 1968. Another hasn't been opened since the 1970's.

I can feel them sitting behind my desk as if they had eyes. I don't think I can put the process off too long if this is how they are going to taunt me. It was easier to deal with them downstairs in a box in a corner. But it is long past time to go through them, keep and discard, learn and try to forget and create a new box, of the good things, places and times. Memories my family won't want to keep in their downstairs in the dark, in a corner. Memories they will want to share and keep in the light.

The Move Coming Home.

I spent Sat and Sun helping the kids move some of the bigger furniture into the basement. Most precious cargo was my daughter's source of Valium, ebony and ivory keys, down the stairs without knocking the tune into left field. Success. However, their 6 month old gorgeous leather couch would simply not give an inch so it is now upstairs and the best my front room has ever seen. Thanks, guys, but it kills me it wouldn't work. They're fine with it, I'm the one feeling sad for them. The flat screen is in their family room,curio cabinet is settled. Bunk beds are up, girls bathroom getting more private and new frig, a tad smaller is coming.  Abby is having the time of her life. Being newly turned 11, I thought she would be more hesitant but she is totally gung-ho and having the time of her life.

Andrew, turns 9 on Aug. 6, is so blaise. He plays intensely on the computer while all this goes on around him, stopping now and then to run outside and turn on the 68 Mustang. Cool cucumber, he is.
After ll, he is moving in with his grandpa, his best friend and inseparable source of play.

The "men" had an idea. Ok...that they didn't think through. Without a lot of thought they took a saws all to the side of my front door to cut out a doggies door. Today, they learned there is no such size even close to be cut down. So I have an approx 19" by 10" hole for all the unholy to enter my home. It's now stuffed with a pillow and so sprayed with Ortho's Home Defense that an armadillo couldn't cross the poison barrier. (or so I pray).

I've still got to box quite a few books that I can't bare to part with along with some blenders and canners for just-in-case in the future. If we run out of space we will donate to the shelters. It is enlightening when you are forced to cut down your inventory, how little you needed much of it and don't know when things go missing.