The end of August is here, kids had their first day of school, things are shimmying into shape for the mostly-organized portion of the year. To avoid even the thought of polluting my lungs I'm keeping busy. It's a really nice day, too, so a good time to plunge into those remaining boxes I haven't sorted out since the flood.
When other people pack your belongings in haste, the strangest things happen. The sugar bowl in a box of books struck me as weird. And then there are the things I still haven't found and I think are just gone. My electronic drums, big enough that they should stick out, are nowhere. A framed photo poster of a boy and girl during WW2 walking into the woods (my husband gave it to me), gone. Assorted kitchen things...some books... pieces of jewelry that had been on my dresser... it's so random. Anyway, that's why I'm going through boxes, cuz if the sugar bowl can end up in books, then ladles could end up in holiday decorations.
Speaking of holidays, preliminary plans are under way. If it's not unreasonably expensive, I think I'll make a goose for Christmas Day this year. It's been years. If it is a king's ransom, I'll make ham. And we can have ham and gingerbread sandwiches for breakfast on "Boxing Day". It's all good. My somewhat SO will be going to his family so I won't see him til New Year's Eve. No tears over that; I may have someone much more important here. And this Yuletide is way organized already, so no last-minute freakouts, I hope. There's always a small scramble near the end, but that's usually a good cause scramble.
Meanwhile, Labor Day Weekend is coming right up. My great-niece turned 18, away from home, on her first trip without her parents. Hard to believe she's 18. For the first time, she isn't heading into another school year- she's in another country. Changes all around. The unofficial end of Summer, the beginning of the house party season, time for canning and freezing, and to start using the oven again. It's a week til Stevil's birthday, he'll be retiring this Fall. Special K is back with her Ex, I expect she'll be moving out of the Shire and into his house in Fellows Balls. She's rarely home anymore. There's a big conference in Burlington over the weekend but I only heard about it this week; I ain'ta goin'.
The Beest abides. Her personality change is amazing. From a terrorist to a sweetie pie. She's asleep on the rug right at the tips of my toes right now. She follows me everywhere, even if it's just to the bookcase and back. Like a dog, really.
Since writing this the phone has been ringing and though I've finally caught up to emails, now I have calls to return. Bear with me, folks. I will call, but I was just taking a break from the mess I created in the bedroom and I need to repack that or I won't have a place to sleep. So off I go to that. Catch you later.
MYSTERIOUS GARDEN
10 months ago
11 comments:
You certainly can't say you're bored can you?
Hey Laura,
Plenty happening with you. And now it's almost Labor Day. Okay, sorry spell check, Labour Day :)
Christmas, oh no. Seems to come around so fast, I don't know why I bother putting away the decorations...
Catch you later, eh.
Gary
x
Busy, busy, busy. We are still missing things after our last move and/or the kitchen renovation. I am pretty certain they are here somewhere. But where...
Goose is great if you can get hold of a fresh one.
Beast is just being patient, lulling you into a false sense of security before the major attack.
Summer jumps to Labour Day jumps to Christmas--just came from CostCo, and it is all there.
Good to hear you so full of positive and solid plans --much changed since the uncertainties a year ago that put your valuables in such hastily packed confusion. And Labor Day. Our eldest was born on Labor Day 42 years ago and has retained that odd sense of humor. Busy times.
As I write, there are two small piles, both pushed out of the way, of Christmas decorations which never made it back to storage in the cellar. I doubt that I shall move them anytime soon, as I get a kick out of the red velvet covered phony reindeer antlers and headband peeking out from a bag sitting by the covered chair.
You never know what you're gonna find when someone else packs your stuff. When we moved to GA from MD in '71, it was a relocation because of my husband's job, so his company paid for the move. That meant, the movers actually came into our house and packed everything for us while I tried to keep our son occupied. And when I say they packed EVERYTHING, I mean just that. They even wrapped up and packed dirty ash trays, cigarette butts and all. However, the case of prime automotive paint which my husband had carefully packed inside of the station wagon mysteriously disappeared somewhere between MD and GA. And since, technically, we (cough) shouldn't have packed paint, we couldn't even complain about it. (But those movers made out like bandits. HA!)
Susan- that's rotten! I've heard stories here- ona about a couple who put an old woman's things in their car and drove away, never to be seen again! But of course, since these people volunteered their time, we just have to suffer the losses and suck it up. After all, we're charity cases.
Why did only one response make it here? Did I have a stroke in the middle of posting or is there another ghost in the machine? Oy!
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