Get on with it.

Today is the day.  Today is the day I have almost dreaded, most certainly did not look forward to…today is the day that things get real.  Get real tough. 

Today is the day I start cleaning out the guest bedroom, the room that has become storage closet number one for all the “stuff” of our 40 years, transplanted into this room as we undertook the remodeling project.  Today is the day that I start sending things in to the “box for donation”, and today is the day I actually take that box to the charity.  Today is also garbage day.

 

It’s not something I look forward to. Like many of you, I have duplicates of pictures, magazines, mail, cards, even kids school work to just throw out.  Throw out.  I’ve saved it for all these years and now I am just going to throw it out? I have thirty years of 401K quarterly reports…I’m just going to throw that out? Well, now, you know ever quarter the news is replaced with an update so what difference could the balance in March 1999 possibly make? Just for personal reference? 

Remember when Walgreens used to duplicate all your pictures?  Half of what was printed was not good to begin with and now I have another whole set, AND the negative? What? I have camping pictures that, to quote an old friend, look just like the camping pictures from the year before, just the people around the fire are sometimes different …two sets. And, who are those little faces around the fire anyway?  The picture so yellowed and grainy I couldn’t even begin to say, so into the garbage those many, many pictures will go today.

As we got in to the remodeling last summer and fall,  items were cleared out from the old shed so it could be torn down. Old life vests and floaties for the lake, some things that were moved to the new shed and a ton of stuff that just needed to be tossed ~ broken rakes, a string of lights, an old plastic sled.  There was a resin statue of what appeared to be an Italian guy, for the garden, like maybe Davinci or someone. He fell over at some point a few years ago and his head broke off.  I had every intention, ever since the Italian guy was taken out of the shed six months ago, to glue his head back on and use him in a flower bed.  I saved him out of the trash heap a few times as hubs tried to get rid of stuff.  "Wait, not my Italian guy".  So this morning, on my walk with little dog, I noticed the side yard has been cleaned up and a few garden items moved from one area to another…and no Italian guy.  I am pretty sure, although he has not responded to my ALL CAPS text, that hubs discarded the Italian guy and his head.  Hubs knows that I am not one to dumpster dive, even for Italian guy.  

 

And still, I find myself wondering if he is in the garbage tote at the top of the driveway and if there is any way I can reach him before the truck comes….