Days 202 and 203 — Yesterday — rainy and cool so decided to do more housecleaning. Took on the main living room. Got up close and personal with the upper windows and am looking at some re-caulking work and painting before winter. Those window really need to be replaced, but. . .
Am continuing on my clean and purge routine. It’s such a great feeling! The wall unit in the living room where I keep just about everything under the sun was a big job. I threw out a a TON of outdated manuals and junk that had accumulated over the past 23 years. I can’t believe how much crap we stick in drawers! I also packed away some things that just didn’t need to be collecting dust anymore.
When I got to the bottom cupboards I discovered the photo albums we used to put all our pictures in. Looked through them quickly, got a little teary and though my intent had been to pack them up, I just couldn’t. It’s wonderful to look back on all those pictures and see the young us. Tim, fresh-faced with a look of eagerness and excitement in his eyes; Landon, so young with all those beautiful red curls he had as a baby and toddler — and always with a big, beautiful smile. And, then, there’s the young me. Looking, I thought, often far too serious, and much, much thinner. I had smiles too, though, and it made my heart ache (just for a moment) for all those years gone. I love my family. I love that I have these pictures of us. I now have a pile of pictures that need going through and placing in those albums. Another rainy-day project.
Today was quiet. Tim had to work and I just putzed about. At noon I went and picked up my youngest grandson and had him come visit for the afternoon. We worked in the yard and then I made us strawberry milkshakes. After we played UNO and he beat me. Four years old and already a card-shark! I loved having that one-on-one time with him. Doesn’t happen very often with any of them anymore. I’m going to have to work on changing that.
I chose a new book. It’s Full Dark, No Stars by Stephen King. A summer just isn’t a summer if I don’t get at least one SK book in. He is my writing hero. This book is a collection of short stories — novellas, really — and I just finished the first one. 1922 is a grim little story about being careful about what you wish for. Vintage Stephen King. I loved it, though some parts were a little squeamish — but then, that’s why he’s the master.
And now, it’s off to bed. Hope I don’t have nightmares.
All That Matters 