So, fifteen bags of trash, five old, beat-up wastebaskets, a 3'-cube wooden crate and assorted dead mops and battered window-blinds later, that minor "bagging up the trash" is done. Hully gee, I had no idea!
Spending eight hours in the house where we put undersized filters in the furnace for years and years (and I let it happen by being lazy, I don't think I changed one ever), scrubbing and throwing away, really does wonders to alleviate nostalgia.
Maybe I should look into a Bluetooth-capable phone. The most productive thing I've ever done during a gabfest was lob Mittens off the bed for excessive head-butting.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely -- then you, too can go to the drugstore with shampoo on your list and return home with conditioner! :)
ReplyDeleteBluetooth headsets are wicked kewl but you do have to make sure the other task is something that can run on autopilot.
I hate moving. Hope we never do it again.
ReplyDeleteWe spend years casting the debris of our lives around a place, only to spend days throwing it in boxes and scrubbing the door jambs with bleach water... just to kill our 'scent' and make it not 'our place' anymore.
The buckets of bleach water kill more than just germs and dust.
Teach, you said a mouthful (it's bleach! spit it out!). I used to resent people with those bleached-out lives; I've come to pity them.
ReplyDeleteThe same unseen hand that got us to parrot, back in the 60's, that it was 'sexy' to 'move with your career,' also installed the notion that "it's all just stuff." Just stuff? Anyone who believes that has a mind-body dichotomy I can't help them with.
My definition of 'yuppie scum' is bubble-riding McMansioners who keep their non-dispensible family hair-looms in a rented garagette, so they can go from grandma's silver 'not going with the decor' in one ticky-tacky cubicle to even hollower forms of being ashamed of their past in ever-newer (and even more temporary) plaster-piles. Dead souls, poor dears, and what can you expect of them?
Roberta's MG (to take one millstone-like example) isn't just a very bad investment. It's a semi-portable artifact of spectacularly misspent youth (and, as it turns out, a stud-muffin magnet). Were it I, I'd probably still be paying to keep the totalled Jag.
Comatus: true, but it's such a lot of actual baggage...!
ReplyDeleteCounting only days worked, moving took me well over a month.
The MG, oh, had I the funds or the skills...! Someday, though I may have to trade it against another in better shape, someday I will have an MGB on the roads again.
The exent to which, "Well, they're not making any more of those again" guides my keep/sell/pitch decisions is probably just a tiny bit much.0