Slow road to recovery

               

       Slowly I have been feeling better.  Well enough to work on my shop and do some packing.  I sold my MIL's Skookum dolls for just under $600.  Sold one of the medals my FIL had and some handkerchiefs.  I also wrote to a couple of museum's about the picture and never heard back from them.  Fine.  I will have it framed and hung.

    I am just floating in tea and honey.   It is the only drink that worked for me for the last 3 days.  Finally late last night my temp broke for the last time and I am feeling better.

    Sitting around listening to the radio.  Listening to the tears heard around the world.  My take on it?  I watched the video of Ms. Hillary crying and listened to the radio.  Well from now on instead of crocodile tears to me they will always be Hillary tears.  My granddaughter is much better at it and could give her some lessons.  But it seemed to have worked for her.   Might have to try it sometime.  Anyway I am tired of the campaign.   So today I have music on and even thinking of cleaning my dusty neglected house.

     How when the roads are covered in snow, and it is snowing, does my house get dusty?  We didn't get the snow they predicted but it was enough for the person stuck in my ditch to have problems.  One year we had 4 cars and a dump truck in the ditch.  Then the really big tow truck they sent for the dump truck got stuck.  Oh the cheap entertainment of that fiasco.   Just rolled up the blinds on the picture window and sat down for a front row seat.

     Nothing has been done at my MIL's.  I suppose tomorrow I will go back.   The sons are afraid to throw anything out in case it is the wrong thing.  Throw out the old makeup I tell them, throw out the old letters, cards, dust rags, MOM and Mylanta bottles.  The industrial size bottle of fibercon.  The 400 magazines.  The saved scraps of old gift wrap and flat bows.  The 400 address labels sent from charities hoping to talk you out of a buck or 2.  If I can figure it out, and I never claimed to be the brightest bulb in the box, they can also.  And always but always keep in the back of your mind that we can't, simply can't keep it all.

     Maybe I should send them away for a few months.  Gather some friends and go to work.  Clean the place out.  I told my husband if he has lived without this childhood memento these many, many, years he can live without it forever.

     We moved a lot when I was growing up.  My mother was poor and we were always going to places we could afford better then the place we were in.  Things got left behind and thrown.  Given away and forgotten.  I don't have many things from my childhood.  Actually I have none.  I have my grandmothers ring, my mom's wallet and stories.  Some pictures.  Period.  But I think they always knew they had the things, without the problem of storing them.  So I have to break through that or else some day my sons will be doing what we are doing.  The pictures will even mean less to them then they do to us.

      I don't mean the family pictures of parents and grandparents and great-grandparents.  I mean the woman I went to school with new grandchild or dog.  Cousin Sally's sons graduation picture of a nice kid I never met.  Those type of photo's.  Jim's new car, Billy from next doors birthday party pictures.  Isn't that cute.  These must go.  They mean nothing other then Oh Look at this, who is this?  Do you know what I mean.  Does this make sense to anyone but me.  This type of stuff it driving me nuts.

    So anyway.  This is where my head is today.  You can tell I am feeling better.  My brain is racing.   So I will put some of this energy into cleaning my house.  Take care all.

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