Sweet Things
There was a time when a nine a.m. appointment would have hardly deterred me from my daily writing. But that time is long past. I am now perfectly content to let the writing slide for a day or even two. It happened yesterday. My back is wonky and I needed my massage therapist to lay hands upon me. The appointment was at 9 a.m. So, I drank my coffee, tidied up the bedroom, and made the drive. No writing was done. This morning there is still soreness, but I am much improved and a larger disaster averted.
When I returned home yesterday, I spent the rest of the day cleaning out my pantry, or more specifically the pantry floor. Seems like a smallish task, but it was lengthened by the need to shred documents and tidy papers I found in bins belonging to my late wife. There was a binder of old bank statements, lots of bags, and folders of genealogy work. I also found a small cache of postcards my mother and father sent to my mother’s sister in 1944 and ‘45. That find was a real treasure, and will go into the binder with the rest of my mother’s papers. In another odd bit of news, I also got the outdoor speakers to work.
Overall, I feel as though I’m on a bit of a winning streak in the house and yard cleaning sweepstakes. Tidiness is the order of the day, and I feel on top of things. Plus, we’ve had two days of rain so everything is green and plush and new growth abounds. I hope I can hold on to this feeling of well-being, but I am long lived, and I know there are always barbarians at the gates and disasters lurking in the cells. Although, maybe knowing bitterness is everywhere afoot, is what makes having this sense of well being all the more precious and worth celebrating.