tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90609098825598585342024-03-13T10:57:15.685-07:00The Guilt ListExercises in when to hold on and when to let go. Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger92125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-5276238966118836692021-02-21T09:36:00.002-08:002021-02-21T09:36:39.036-08:00Bump<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-EMYSi38hpyw/YDKaFrPNcEI/AAAAAAAABdI/cL1OPf-_V00bUmxR65rU_LKiujTAn8h9wCLcBGAsYHQ/bump.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1195" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-EMYSi38hpyw/YDKaFrPNcEI/AAAAAAAABdI/cL1OPf-_V00bUmxR65rU_LKiujTAn8h9wCLcBGAsYHQ/bump.jpg" width="269" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-36525865305082559552021-02-06T15:46:00.001-08:002021-02-06T15:46:29.080-08:00Rescuing Unwanted Diaries - from the you tubes<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Irving Finkel of the British Museum posts on YouTube, mostly on cuneiform related topics. He posted one video about <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X0hi2Q3TAK8" target="_blank">unwanted diaries </a>. Due to his lobbying, the Bishopsgate Institute will accept donations of personal diaries, no matter who they're from. I'm re-listening to the video to be sure that they will take non-UK diaries.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Ah! He hasn't said so outright, but one of the diaries he presents as an example is from America. So I could, theoretically, send Grandma Lil's diaries to Bishopsgate. Reading them depresses me. I may mention why later.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The Great Diary Project has a website: https://www.thegreatdiaryproject.co.uk/. Their address is: </span><span class="LrzXr" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">230 Bishopsgate, Spitalfields, London EC2M 4QH, United Kingdom.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">He makes a point of stressing that none of the institute's diaries were written by politicians.</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-86140293818780200312020-12-27T19:31:00.000-08:002020-12-27T19:31:00.701-08:00Book Case Organizing<p> I'm not even going to check to see how many years it's been. I am currently bringing books up from the basement. The books were put in boxes in the basement when we painted my room. I still don't have things the way I want them in that room, but the painting is done and the new windows have been finished. I have a murphy bed that's almost in the right place and a teak dresser that I really like.</p><p>I also have the two-tier bookcase that Grandpa B built. It had to be painted, too. It's oddly shaped and maybe not in the right place. That may be why the books stayed in the basement for as long as they did.</p><p>I brought up a handful of books from the basement and decided to donate half of them. Then, because the books in the bedroom bookcase need to be sorted before more basement books come up, I started sorting the books in the dining room book case. Not that we have a table and chairs in the dining room - what we have is a couple of desks, three sets of book cases, a filing cabinet, and some shelves.</p><p>There was a reason for shifting to the dining room book case. There really was. It wasn't just because I got distracted or gave up on the bedroom book case. It was because I decided that 1) a couple of the basement books really should go in the dining room/computer room, 2) if I was in a mood to get rid of books, that book case was really full and could use some pruning, so 3) I started sorting through the dining room book case to see what should go into the bedroom and what I could stand to do without.</p><p>I have half a box full of books to go away and a wastebasket full of papers to recycle. I also have a stack of stuff I've deliberately collected that need to find a place in my bedroom closet. Organizing always makes more work.</p><p>But the reason I'm writing is that I'm about to throw a few things out that I feel guilty about tossing. I could take pictures first, but so far they're things that I'm <i>that</i> stuck on. </p><p>I'll be 65 in January, so I don't really need to keep high school report cards. 1971 may sound like the olden days but I really don't need physical evidence that I once got: a B in PE, a B in trigonometry, an A in American Literature, a B in French II, and an A in Chemistry. </p><p>I'm also going to toss the Commencement 1969 program from Harbor Jr. College. Mom got her AA that year. I'm proud of her for going back and getting that. In '69 I was in junior high, so it was a good example for us.</p><p>Oh, my. Here are some clippings. Yeah, those are worth scanning and keeping the scans. They're from the 80s and older and peripheral relatives may enjoy them. So even though they're yellow, they won't be tossed until they're scanned. </p><p>Sigh. Christmas letters. I admire people who can remember what they did all year and line it up like that. I'm going to toss them, though. I'll feel really guilty, but they're going. </p><p>Found a letter from my sister that I'm going to keep. Here's her Certificate of Birth from the hospital. Don't know how I got that. Possibly from clearing out Mom's place. OMG! It's got her footprints on it and Mom's thumbprint. I'll have to send it to her. And she got a Youth Fitness Achievement Award in 1972. </p><p>There are some things from my other sister that I may send to her, too. She probably doesn't need her report cards, but there are some awards that she might like. A bunch of them were related to FFA (Future Farmers of America). Dang, that's her HS diploma. </p><p>This is how organizing gets bogged down. Mom things. Dad things. Dang - Dad's birth certificate. A hospital log printed in the Torrance Herald with my Mom's name and my date of birth. I can toss that. My HS diploma - may keep that. Retention Basin Design Standards - that can go.</p><p>The class photos from elementary school can be sent to whoever is in them. May scan them first, but I already have scans of the individual photos, so maybe not. And I have to file mine.</p><p>But that's a few more things out of the house and a whole shelf empty in the dining room book case. Sadly, there's a bunch of stuff now on my desk to be sorted and filed. Pity I don't have tomorrow off, or I could keep going. Not that I'm not going to keep going now. I'm just not going to get much else up from the basement today. </p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-5338880735981157402017-11-12T11:14:00.000-08:002017-11-12T11:14:11.491-08:00My last post was three and a half years ago.<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My last post was three and a half years ago.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">More later.</span><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-26773551302050050022015-04-12T18:04:00.000-07:002015-04-12T18:04:38.206-07:00Ah, The Smell of Mildew<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There would have been less guilt if I'd just gone through the box and tossed things. But, no. It wasn't handled that straightforwardly. I</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">n one of the more recent iterations of clearing the garage, we found a box of old school things. It looked at first like is was mostly my Dear Son's things. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did I toss it? No. I had set it aside, with the idea of going through it to at least see what was there. It was in a cardboard box. It got left on the back porch and ignored for weeks. Minor guilt every time I went out the back door. Then it got rained on. I hauled it in to dry. Shoved it into the front room for "someone" to go through. I knew it should be me, but was sort of hoping someone else would deal with it. A few weeks ago it someone shoved it into my bedroom during a "someone's coming over" clear of the front room. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I shoved it into a corner. Now I'm tired of it being there. So there will be tossing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's mostly Dear Son's old school reports. There are reports on:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pandas</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">New York</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Homo Sapiens</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Walt Disney</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yellowstone</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There's a quarterly report from his GATE class, report cards (sheets, really), letters to me, and art assignments from elementary school. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ah, there are things from Beloved Son as well. I feel worst about that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">His high school football pictures and letters. Fortunately, those are in ziplock bags. No mildew. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A file full of grade reports, school newsletters, art work, and citations. Also letters to me</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Reports on:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Richard Byrd </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Solar System</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Beaver</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mexico</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Alaska</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At least one manila folder of Eldest Son's things. There are letters to me, worksheets from the second and fourth grades, his high school graduation announcement, </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are also envelopes of my old taxes and the original loan papers for the house. The taxes are old enough to go. I have a different loan, now, so most of the loan papers can go. I may want to keep the original inspection report. I'll read it and see.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">About five sixths of the old school things can go. And I can mail most of the things for Beloved Son to him. I'll take photos or scans of the school certificates that have their pictures on it. Pictures are good. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The box can be recycled with the rest of it. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-7665175127401178422014-07-19T11:52:00.003-07:002014-07-19T13:39:29.819-07:00Go Through Those Boxes More Than Once: Abe the Newsboy<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I successfully threw out a political pamphlet in the last post to this blog. Now I'm hesitating over getting rid of a book. It's full title: </span><strong style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; line-height: 20px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Life Story of Abe the Newsboy, Hero of a Thousand Fights.</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is apparently a vaguely historical book, and you know that I have a weakness for the vaguely historical. It's an autobiography of a Navy boxer and it has pictures of Presidents in it. It was also self published, which usually didn't work out that well, back in the day. Did I hear you ask which day?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Looks like the first edition was in 1930. That would be the year my Dad was born. This is my Grandma's copy, which she obviously bought after 1960. <strike>She had a thing for sailors. She married . . . .</strike> Well, let's just say that Dad's dad was a sailor when they were first married. So it fits in with family history.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've looked it up online, and the book is referred to as "important". It's also called one of the first memoirs, which is a crock, and the exact same wording has spread to many internet sites.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It sells for as little as $2.49, plus shipping, and can be downloaded for free in PDF, ePUB, or mp3 from a place called bookalist. It downloads as a passworded file, then you have to log onto another site and download the password. That's where I got cautious. So I can't tell you if the site is fishy or not. Can anyone vouch that this is a safe site?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can't find a review of it online, although it is on the recommended reading list at jewishboxers.com.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Amazon has a bunch of consignment copies for sale, but, again, no review. The first few sentences were very 1930's sincere. Part of me wants to read it just to write the review. The rest of me knows that I have many more important things that I'm behind on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, man. Someone presented a paper on it. <span style="font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.15in;">Mangun,
Kimberley. “Abe ‘the Newsboy’ Hollandersky: </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.15in;">Self-Promotion and the Hero Myth in Newspaper Coverage of
the Jewish Boxer</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.15in;">.” Paper presented at the American Journalism Historians
Association National Conference, New Orleans, September 2013.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sigh. It's starting to look like it's going to end up back in the box. My only excuse is that I can use it as a prop to talk about those relative that have gone before us. If I actually manage to get it out of the house (or to post a review), I'll post it here. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">[ETA: To make up for my indecision regarding Abe, I've tossed The Salem Frigate by John Jennings. It's listed as an adventure romance and you can get it for $0.13 on Amazon.]</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-25123825414769501782014-07-19T11:00:00.000-07:002014-07-19T11:00:30.412-07:00Go Through Those Boxes More Than Once: Goodbye Mr. Max Rafferty<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My Beloved Son and his wife (who are expecting - yay!) go through everything they own twice a year to see what they can throw or give away. You can see the results of the constant pruning in their house, which is spacious and easy to clean. This is not a thing that either of them learned from me. </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am trying, though. Since I'm not at their level, yet, I sometimes prune in stages. Recently we did some organizing in the garage and I brought in three boxes to sort through. From the look of them, it's all family stuff. When I put the boxes away, I think they were meant to be deep storage. Today, I'm looking at them as being full of things that I couldn't bring myself to throw away, yet. And I'm giving myself dispensation to prune in stages. If it ends up being one box going back in the garage, I'll consider it a big step forward. And who knows, maybe that's what I intended to happen when I stored them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What's in the boxes? Well, I found one thing I can let go.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not sure where this came from. I had one uncle who did political networking that was job-related, and my father was more than a little right wing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Either one of them would occasionally get involved in political mailings, so this could have been a leftover from one of those. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The lack of address means that it wasn't mailed to Dad, but he could have picked it up when visiting a local campaign headquarters or it could have been passed out in a door to door campaign. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It wasn't a campaign that Dad was particularly active in, or I'd remember the candidate. As it is, the name is only vaguely familiar, and I'd have to look him up to see if he won or lost.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I suppose I could make a comment on 'the hoax of "forced housing"' vs 'housing equality', but I'm not feeling the need at the moment. For now I'll just shrug and say it was the sixties.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have no clue why this political pamphlet was in my Mother's things. I only know that I hung onto it because it felt vaguely historical. I have a weakness for that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, if anyone finds any historical value in this little, unmailed piece of paper, you have these images to download. Take them with my blessing. Unlike the cooking pamphlet, I didn't hold onto this one to see if anyone else wanted it, though. The paper version has been recycled. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Recycling wasn't one of Max's issues, but then it was the sixties. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I could decide that it's sad that it took all this effort to throw out one piece of paper, but I won't. I'm enjoying this little effort at memorializing my life and trash. Goodbye, Mr. Rafferty. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-33773783638783151212014-06-23T07:41:00.000-07:002014-06-23T19:33:58.747-07:00Climbing Mount Guilt (Books)<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes you can measure guilt. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This particular stack of guilt is eight point three feet high.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1Ksbh3qlwAs/U6g1v904RjI/AAAAAAAABCQ/hm_Mc_dzdWY/s1600/guilt+books+upphoto+02.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1Ksbh3qlwAs/U6g1v904RjI/AAAAAAAABCQ/hm_Mc_dzdWY/s1600/guilt+books+upphoto+02.JPG" height="384" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let's try a different perspective.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5hiNvNXitPI/U6g2GOV8cpI/AAAAAAAABCY/jauH_JSdQRE/s1600/guilt+books+stack+01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5hiNvNXitPI/U6g2GOV8cpI/AAAAAAAABCY/jauH_JSdQRE/s1600/guilt+books+stack+01.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is a stack of all of the books that I've bought that I have not finished. About a quarter of them haven't been started. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The books in the shelves have been read, and so have the books in the shelves in my bedroom. Not to mention many, many books that have been read and donated to the library or the thrift store. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I tell myself that this is not a horrible thing. But like any unfinished thing, they sort of nag at me. "You meant to read me," they say. "It's not like reading is a hard thing."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They're each one more unfinished thing that implies that I'm the sort of person who doesn't finish things. Well, I may not have read them, but I've used them, now. I have the photo to prove it. They were, for a few hours, an art installation. For a few hours, they were a homage to my guilt. True, I had to add four books that I'd actually read to make it high enough to touch the ceiling, which was necessary in order to keep it from falling. But eight point three feet of it is solid guilt.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(You'd think books would be steadier in a stack, but without the pressure of the ceiling, it wouldn't have stayed up for five seconds. One of the minions had to steady the stack while I added the cappers. Even then, the top third came down in the night. It didn't wake me.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While they were stacked, and half-stacked, I took advantage of the space and cleared the last of the plaster dust and hunks off of the bedroom shelves. So that's another success. (The plaster was from when we replaced my bedroom window, going to double-paned from feel the breeze - another success. I could feel guilty about clearing the plaster three weeks after the window replacement, but I won't. We also replaced the siding on that side of the house, and there have been other things I've been doing to clear out the debris from that. Including buying a trap and trapping a cat that had crawled under the house while the siding was off.)</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B58GqrJUDY4/U6g5rDsPE1I/AAAAAAAABCk/RMNWUSPf02o/s1600/guilt+books+upphoto+03.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B58GqrJUDY4/U6g5rDsPE1I/AAAAAAAABCk/RMNWUSPf02o/s1600/guilt+books+upphoto+03.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But let's look at the books again. You'd think that stacking them up like that would make them more intimidating, but it doesn't. When they were salted through the rest of the books, they nagged at me a lot. Now I've seen them in their entirety. I've seen the actual magnitude. And you know what? I can deal with them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They now have a seven foot long shelf in my bedroom all to themselves. A few of them are in the shelves you see by the desk. And the rest are, um, still in a stack. But it's tucked beside the desk shelves, where it isn't in the way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why are they stacked on the floor? Because they're part of an art installation, for one. I like having one. For another, I like having usable space in the second set of shelves by my desk. It helps me keep my desk clear. It looks airier when it's not filled with books, and I can use the look of open space. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The remainder stack is maybe three feet tall. I can deal with that. And with everything in order, I've started reading - - a new book that my daughter-in-law sent me. It's <u>Your Hate Mail Will Be Graded</u> by John Scalzi, and I'm loving it. Hey, I am not going to be controlled by an art installation. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-67100332914065944392013-11-30T14:56:00.002-08:002013-11-30T14:56:45.088-08:00Do You Know What This Thing Is?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is the story of an inherited piece and the joy of Google. When I first unpacked this, I thought it was an incense burner. Then I noticed that there were no vents to allow smoke to escape.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">So if it wasn't an incense burner, what is it? The loop on the handle looked like it's meant to hold the lid, but the lid loop didn't fit into it. (I later learned that this was due to corrosion.)</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FOLnGjELWSA/UppJE9fDH_I/AAAAAAAAA_Y/bXS4zuSqPfU/s1600/What+is+it+02.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FOLnGjELWSA/UppJE9fDH_I/AAAAAAAAA_Y/bXS4zuSqPfU/s320/What+is+it+02.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There were two bird's heads on the lip of the main body. They looked like they're meant as hooks or supports. I thought that maybe they would hold the lid tipped up, to let smoke out, but I wasn't able to make that work.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kpFL1stvW_o/UppJlCeYDsI/AAAAAAAAA_g/FMWevISI_ss/s1600/What+is+it+03.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kpFL1stvW_o/UppJlCeYDsI/AAAAAAAAA_g/FMWevISI_ss/s320/What+is+it+03.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was a grate, which would work for an incense burner. And maybe the lid was supposed to be used to smother it, saving incense for later.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k5XM3jit52o/UppKePCOAaI/AAAAAAAAA_s/UBpo1ngB2vI/s1600/What+is+it+04.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k5XM3jit52o/UppKePCOAaI/AAAAAAAAA_s/UBpo1ngB2vI/s320/What+is+it+04.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was a mark on the bottom. Meriden Silver Plate - Quadruple Plate 1339 1/2 - with a lion holding a rose. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">OK. That's googlable. Aaaand, <a href="http://jonuns.blogspot.com/2013/10/antique-meriden-silver-plate-butter-dish.html" target="_blank">it's a butter dish!</a> The grate is called a pierced liner "which served to keep the butter above melting ice." And the lid IS supposed to hang from the handle. The bird's head supports are meant to hold a butter knife. Cool beans! I never knew that butter used to be sold in "one pound circular cakes, which measured roughly four inches in diameter." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Now I have to decide whether to keep it or not. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-90784968344985391232013-11-10T13:35:00.003-08:002013-11-10T13:37:51.922-08:00If It Feels Like History, It's Harder For Me To Toss<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't know which relative I inherited this catalog from, but the fact that it feels a little historic has made it more difficult for me to just toss it away.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DcOW2whSCm4/Un_x2VeXFCI/AAAAAAAAA9E/gbJxYi_1bS0/s1600/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+Covers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="366" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DcOW2whSCm4/Un_x2VeXFCI/AAAAAAAAA9E/gbJxYi_1bS0/s400/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+Covers.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Illustrated Catalog of Fine Linen Drawn Work<br />
A.B. Culver Jr.<br />
Aguascalientes, Mexico</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I scanned it and I'm posting it here. If it has any historical value, it has been memorialized. I couldn't find a date on it, but other booklets in the box were from the late thirties or early forties. Not that my relatives sorted things by date. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nGI4VSwfVDQ/Un_zMdwxvRI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/IjZFt0Lt2nI/s1600/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="366" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nGI4VSwfVDQ/Un_zMdwxvRI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/IjZFt0Lt2nI/s400/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+01.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I won't blame you if you don't want to look through all of these doilies and handkerchiefs.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1dGYS-7FxEg/Un_zznp1FBI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/OuoSNVNI0M4/s1600/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="366" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1dGYS-7FxEg/Un_zznp1FBI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/OuoSNVNI0M4/s400/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+02.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm trying to remember the last time I saw a doily. A real doily - paper doilies under brownies or cupcakes don't count.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nIuDKl6x57g/Un_0Ty_Oz5I/AAAAAAAAA9g/akP9FQPgLYk/s1600/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="366" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nIuDKl6x57g/Un_0Ty_Oz5I/AAAAAAAAA9g/akP9FQPgLYk/s400/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+03.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ah, look. They claim to have made the "very first fine linen handkerchief ever made of Drawn Work. . ." Definitely history! Well, if you believe it.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n2AkgGMFW7k/Un_1GwCWygI/AAAAAAAAA9s/LcJl7gkR7PU/s1600/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="366" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n2AkgGMFW7k/Un_1GwCWygI/AAAAAAAAA9s/LcJl7gkR7PU/s400/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+04.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Centerpieces, Tea Cloths, Lunch Cloths, and Table Cloths . . . I'm assuming that these are prestige items.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7FNRzr6wUmI/Un_2l4X2L0I/AAAAAAAAA94/b6jyu7Vujvg/s1600/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="366" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7FNRzr6wUmI/Un_2l4X2L0I/AAAAAAAAA94/b6jyu7Vujvg/s400/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+05.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My Grandma D had a few doilies. She had many more antimacassars. I think that was because she had more comfy chairs for people to sit in than she had horizontal surfaces with nothing being stored on them.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_VOId1JmbD8/Un_30z15LmI/AAAAAAAAA-E/qrFiuka7eIA/s1600/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="366" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_VOId1JmbD8/Un_30z15LmI/AAAAAAAAA-E/qrFiuka7eIA/s400/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+06.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think my mother had one or two doilies. She used them under decorative candy dishes. Usually the candy dishes were empty.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FL21hBbakgQ/Un_4hR5QZWI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/Tih0SzQPvws/s1600/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="366" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FL21hBbakgQ/Un_4hR5QZWI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/Tih0SzQPvws/s400/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+07.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Although I have vague memories from when I was very young of candy dishes with hard candies that had been sitting in the dish long enough to have sealed together into one, dish-sized hard candy. That could have been at some half-remembered great aunt's house, though, rather than at home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Oh, hey! Collars and cuffs and shirt waists! I've seen lace lady's collars, but not men's collars.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sU8j2A-N5HE/Un_5L5dyrQI/AAAAAAAAA-k/P8IvButP8Zc/s1600/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="366" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sU8j2A-N5HE/Un_5L5dyrQI/AAAAAAAAA-k/P8IvButP8Zc/s400/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+08.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't have any personal experience with lady's lace collars, but I was aware that they existed. They could be moved from one dress to another. From the ad copy above: "Wheel Collars are now all the rage and we make the latest and most popular styles." </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HqFDx5hPZR4/Un_6_pugstI/AAAAAAAAA-w/Swh0CJyOl7o/s1600/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="366" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HqFDx5hPZR4/Un_6_pugstI/AAAAAAAAA-w/Swh0CJyOl7o/s400/Fine+Linen+Drawn+Work+09.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ending with lady's collars and cuffs and a baby cap. I'm going to assume that you have to send for the price list because the catalog was expected to be used for years. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">And now that the whole catalog has been posted, I can throw the catalog out. Even if the company were still in business, "North Side of Plaza" probably isn't a good enough address any more. So I wouldn't be able to send for the price list. I will have to face my future doily free. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-54849891394151606872013-09-23T22:08:00.000-07:002013-09-23T22:08:17.400-07:00Grandma L's Diary<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I read through Grandma L's 1960 diary. I'd have been four that year. I dog-eared the pages where she was complaining about my parents, who were doing it all wrong. Also pages that contained OMG. I may post some of it here.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I'm definitely going to type it up somewhere and then throw the book away. That will only leave about two dozen to go. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-10793554448900335902013-09-08T23:23:00.002-07:002013-09-08T23:23:24.930-07:00Let This Be A Record<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today I resorted the things in my room. The main goal was to consolodate everything that I still need to sort or value and then get rid of into one set of shelves. Not the pictures still to be sorted. Those are separate. This is stuff that I still haven't convinced myself I couldn't get a few dollars for, and letters that I haven't read. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I may be keeping more than is sensible, but the pile gets smaller every time I sort through it. Right now I'm sorting through old 45 rpm records. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Dad's: Begin the Beguine, The Shifting, Whispering Sands, Deep Purple (Bing Crosby), My Happiness, To Each His Own, What Is A Girl?/What Is A Boy? (Jackie Gleason), Cold, Cold Heart (x3), Daddy's Little Girl, Riders in the Sky (x2), Tennessee Waltz, The Glow Worm, Tumbling Tumbleweeds, Your Cheatin' Heart, You Always Hurt the One You Love, Born to Lose, Mockin' Bird Hill, The Wayward Wind, Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, and It's Been a Long, Long Time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Mine: Rainbow Connection, Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White, and Blowin' In the Wind/Puff the Magic Dragon.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Unknown: Chasing A Dream, Blueberry Hill, I'll Take Care of Your Cares/Ballerina, Song of the Islands, Over the Rainbow/You Made Me Love You, Till We Meet Again, Anytime, Hopelessly Devoted to You, and a box set of La Traviata, on clear red discs.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Dad had a preference for LPs, so some of these may have been records that I bought cheap to remind me of him, or that I inherited from somewhere else and kept because they were songs he played and songs he sang us to bed with.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I may keep the red ones for awhile, but the others are going. Also going is a box of LP albums, album sets, and 78 records that were definitely his. His name was on most of them. Two were in the cardboard box they had been mailed to him in. I'm glad I went through the box even though I didn't keep any of the records in the end. There was also a photo album that he had kept in high school. There were enough pictures of other kids to show that he had friends. But most of the pages were filled with pictures of planes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">He was always interested in WWII planes. Some were post cards. Some were the size of, and had backs like, playing cards. Some were smaller photos. I'm going to mail them to Beloved Son, because he's shown interest in Dad's army time and his army time wouldn't have happened without this prior interest. If BS wants to throw them out after looking at them, that's fine. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I did my due dilligence. I looked online, checking on the 78's. The best advice there is that if it was a popular song, it isn't worth the bother of trying to sell. Early jazz and pre-WWII country, western, or hillbilly might be worth something, but Bing Crosby won't be. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Give me a sec. There are at least four albums of 78's in the Going Away Shelves. Some titles I'm not familiar with. Probably not Dad's. "That Mink On Her Back (Brought the Wolf to My Door)." One of them is a picture disc with Cowboys and cows. I may check on a value for that one. It has fine scratches, but may not have skips. Probably a lost cause, but out of nearly two boxes worth, checking on one or two won't hurt me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">So "Out Where the West Winds Blow" is number one of two to be checked. Number two is "The Voice of . . . Barry Goldwater." It's his acceptance speech from his nomination for president. I had no idea that those were pressed into LP's. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">There's about a box full of LP's left, and those were probably mine. These were the ones I was feeling guilty about, though, so those will be easy to go through. The culls are by the front door, ready to be taken to the van. With them are my old speakers and tape/CD player. Getting those out of my bedroom is freeing up significant floor space. I'm going to enjoy it. I'll let you know if I can get big bucks for Barry. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Oh, my. I just took it out to see if it had been played much. It hasn't been. And it's an eye-catching transparent bright yellow. A gold LP for Goldwater. Nice. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-27550771856366787042013-09-06T08:17:00.002-07:002013-09-06T08:52:44.606-07:00I Have Become Accustomed to Taking Loads to the Thrift Store<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think I posted, once before, about donating things to the thrift store and not posting it here, because I had done it enough that it had started to just feel normal instead of feeling like a little victory. Well, I don't know how many times I've taken things there without posting them here. I'm trying to remember - I think the last batch went three days ago, and it was a fairly big batch that had to be dealt with in stages.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Let's touch the guilt. There's a little voice squeaking away that's implying that I didn't post about it, not because it seems normal, now, but because I've been lazy about posting. No. That's not appropriate. Not for here. The rule for this blog is that it's here to help me, not to give me one more chore to do. If I don't feel like posting, I won't post. That's not being lazy, that's using the blog the way I planned to use it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Too bad, little voice. You lose.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">But let me think for a minute about what it took to make this last donation. Usually, a donation means I've sorted through a box or drawer or shelf and pulled out things no longer needed. They stay in a box or on a shelf near the front door until there are enough things to take to the van. If there's enough right after the sort, they're supposed to go to the van the next time I go out the door.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I allow things to stay in the van for up to a week before I allow myself to feel guilty about it. It saves gas if I drop off a donation while I'm driving nearby on another errand, so I tell myself I'm doing that. Occasionally I'll make a single run right away, but that's only if I feel like giving myself a little boost of accomplishment.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">This load was in the van for two or three days. Not bad. But before that, some of it was sitting in the back yard. Why was that? Because two or three weekends ago, I sorted through all of the things in the room off of the garage. The little voice isn't even trying to make me feel guilty about not having posted about that. Do you know why? Because I completely sorted the room off the garage, which was an annoying mess, and however I may have dropped the ball afterwards, it was a big thing and doing a big thing is not lazy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I know what's out there, now, and which plastic bins have which things in them. Most of it isn't mine, but I still sorted it. I convinced someone else to part with three or four boxes worth of stuff. That's a major thing for me. I have a real reluctance to poke at other people.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Half of it was tossed and half of it was set aside for donation. There were also nearly a dozen cardboard boxes liberated, more than the recycling bin could hold. Next week should see the last of them gone. And some odd-shaped plastic bins were released to donation. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">There wasn't much of my stuff in there, but I decided to donate two old sewing machines that belonged to relatives, and probably tossed a few things. It's been long enough that the details are fading. The sewing machines were a big thing to let go of. There's at least one relative who would be unhappy to think that they were no longer "in the family". </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">So there was a pile of cardboard boxes and plastic donatables in the back yard for a couple of weeks. I can remember when things were put into the back yard temporarily and then stayed there for months. I'm a bit pleased that this particular set started to gall me by the next weekend and that I actually got them gone within two or three weeks because of that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Another bright spot is that when it was obvious that I wasn't loading up whenever I noticed the stack and felt annoyed with it because I didn't want to do all that heavy lifting, I asked for help loading. Got it, too. With no complaints. I need to do that more often. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">So there was a donation load delivered to the thrift store a few days ago. And it was the result of me asking for help. I asked for help because I was staying on top of no letting things just sit in the back yard. And the stuff was sitting in the back yard because I HAD TOTALLY CLEARED, SORTED, AND ORGANIZED THE ROOM OFF OF THE GARAGE!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">OK. Now I can see that part of the reason the little voice was telling me that I was lazy with posting, here, is that it knew that I needed to acknowledge, not the load to the thrift store, but the bigger accomplishment behind it. Cool. Not bad, little voice. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">And the trash and recycling got picked up yesterday, so if I go out back now and bin the last of the cardboard boxes, the adventure of the Great Sorting will be complete. I probably ought to get dressed first. Now would be good. (waves)</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-52995705072738832682013-08-03T22:12:00.002-07:002013-08-03T22:14:48.046-07:00Tossing a Few More Photos<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I feel justified tossing inherited photos like this one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is Grandma L's front yard. The stump had sentimental value for her because it was made by a live Christmas tree that graced her front room when her kids were . . . well, I'm not sure how old they were, but they were all living with her. They had live Christmas trees two years in a row and planted them both in the front yard in a time before the street had sidewalks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">This is, I believe, the tree that wasn't planted with the pot. There were some casual mentions made about why one of the two trees was so much taller and bushier than the other. The short one had been stunted for several years until someone got curious enough to go digging and discovered that the poor thing was pot bound. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I don't mind keeping the story, but (sorry Grandma) I'm not keeping a picture of a sentimental stump. I've got lots of shots of people standing in front of the actual trees. That's enough to keep the story in mind. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OK, Grandma. You got me. If you stand one of my kids on the stump, I'll keep that picture. Well played. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-5964472176972814932013-07-19T22:18:00.000-07:002014-07-04T10:25:12.854-07:00Is Guilt Hereditary?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you don't remember Mother's financial planner, it's <a href="http://theguiltlist.blogspot.com/2013/01/planning-ahead.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-6351547255063074602013-06-18T07:58:00.000-07:002013-06-18T07:58:20.904-07:00Back From Vacation - Am I Feeling Guilty Yet?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I deplaned Sunday and went back to work yesterday. Finished reading <strong>ADD Friendly Ways to Organize Your Life</strong> on the plane. And only forgot to pack two things: my bathing suit and something else that I'm forgetting, now. Neither forgotten thing caused any trouble. So, on the whole, I'm not feeling very guilty. Just a little guilty for being a bit behind at work due to the vacation. The vacation was rejuvinating, though, and no one at work has been put out, so if I think about it, the guilt goes away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Oh, I could feel guilty about putting the plane ticket on the charge card, but I've had much larger balances in the past and I know that this one won't last long. Also, I went to bed at a decent hour last night, which <strong>ADD FWOYL</strong> strongly recommends. So yay, me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I'm trying something from <strong>ADD FWOYL</strong> called a stubby list. That's a to do list with from 3 to 5 things on it, each of them meant to be done today. You write it on a large post-it or, since I don't have those, on a small, portable tablet. You write the few items in big letters, at least half an inch tall. You carry it around. I crossed off two things, yesterday. Hang on a sec . . . </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">. . . OK. That was one more. Might hit the rest before I leave for work this morning. You never can tell. And three is enough to make me happy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I'm testing some scents from <a href="http://www.zomgsmellsshop.com/" target="_blank">ZOMG Smells</a>. [BTW, want a cool picture of a trio of </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://johnconway.co/giraffatitan_mudbath" target="_blank">Brachiosaurs</a>?] You can buy a selection of ten testers for not very much and go exploring. It fits in the guilt blog because there is a scent from my teenhood that intrigued me and that I've never been able to identify or find. It was the background scent at a shop in Ports O' Call, back in the early seventies. It was musky and . . . thought provoking. So I ordered ten of their squees (squee is their name for a tester sample) with a musk in them. We'll see what happens.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">One of my problems with ADD is getting stuck. Having something that I want to do or need to do, but just not being able to take the next step. And then having the task age. And age. Knocking loose a task from so long ago if very energizing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So far I've tried The Chieftain's Wife: " — the feminine side of pillaging and dominion. Royal jasmine, sandalwood, patchouli, dusty musk." It's close to the scent I remember in some ways, but it's a lot lighter. Let's see. Should I try Wait Until Evening? </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"A dark, funky, musky blend of patchouli, myrrh, red ginger, spikenard and blackstrap molasses." That sounds promising.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Hmm. Sharper than the target scent. Definitely interesting, though. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I think for my next post I'll list the old family things that are hanging. You know, pictures, letters, home movies, etc. I was thinking about doing that in this post, but now that I think of it, it's going to take some time and thought. And some stacking and counting. So, not this morning. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-90100021825859768242013-05-28T19:51:00.000-07:002013-06-11T14:57:55.188-07:00If You Love Your Children LABEL YOUR PHOTOS!!!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I Have sorted, scanned, and labeled photos - an indeterminate trickle of them. I tossed</span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> a couple dozen duplicates. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I have also filled in several slots on the family tree from notes on the back. I enjoyed that. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">In line with the title of this post, I've also found many more photos that are unlabeled and unidentified. They were added to the folder labeled "Who the Hell Are These People?" I may have to visit relatives to see if someone else can place a name to some of them. Oh, the horror! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">And speaking of horror, </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've decided that this photo went unlabeled due to the enduring shame of a recurrance of toddler cannibalism in the gene line. The horror, I say!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-1170607717133464192013-05-22T07:47:00.003-07:002013-06-11T15:06:37.432-07:00Quick Check In<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We made it back from a wedding and a big road trip. I only tossed 15 duplicate pictures this morning. It was a small step forward. maybe after enough steps . . . </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I need to see how badly things backed up at work while I was out for a week and a half before I relax. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-47927481509887842412013-05-09T22:40:00.002-07:002013-06-11T15:10:38.647-07:00The Last Two Boxes . . . <br />
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. . . <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">are very densely packed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">This is going to take awhile. And it's going to take some research after all the sorting and scanning. These are the boxes with the really old photos. The ones that came glued to a cardboard backing, to make them more like paintings. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't feel so bad about unidentified adults. I figure the burning question, "Who the hell are these people?" will be answered eventually. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But the unidentified babies may be forever orphaned. Sigh.</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-59750735739594583342013-05-05T11:34:00.002-07:002013-09-27T11:00:00.376-07:00YES! The Last Boxes from Idaho Are Being Sorted!<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Recap - -</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">My mother died near the end of last May. I live in central California. She lived in Idaho. I have two sisters. There was coordinating and travel and more coordinating needed before we could begin to deal with her things. She had been trying to go through things, but was not a person who easily threw things away. And she had been married twice, both times to people who tended to accumulate things that might be useful later.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">At the beginning of last October my Dear Son and his Divoted Girlfriend brought back the last of the things that we were either going to keep or that needed to be sorted through in depth and couldn't just be chucked. They came home driving a van and a truck with the truck pulling a rented U-Haul trailer. All three vehicles were stuffed with boxes and other things. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">I've been sorting ever since. The boxes over-stuffed our small garage and got mixed with our storage boxes. It's been hard to tell how close I was to getting everything sorted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Yesterday I brought in what I thought might be the last two boxes. There was something that I was dreading. You see, there were a couple of things that I knew I'd packed to be brought home that I hadn't found, yet. One was a certificate that just tickled me. If it wasn't in one of those two boxes, then either there was another box that we hadn't found, yet, or there was a box that had gotten mislaid.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Last night I found the certificate that I had packed in Idaho. I am chuffed to know that these are the very last two boxes to sort through. Well, the last two with photos and papers. There are at least three boxes with green decorative glass and small corning ware lidded casseroles. I'm not worried about what might happen to them if they stay in the garage unsorted, though, so they almost don't count. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">You have to admit, that's a cool certificate. This is my great great grandmother. The 1920 census lists her as a metaphysical healer, so she was still at it 25 years after being certified. She also left a journal that only had four entries in it (my heritage! none of my forebears ever completed a journal or album), one of which talks about the magnetic therapy she was doing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Cool beans, Great Great Grandma Archibald. (She married after getting the certificate and was thereafter no longer Sister L. M. Bates.)</span> </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-43503521931454441602013-05-04T11:54:00.000-07:002013-05-04T11:54:07.768-07:00I May Be On The Last Two Boxes<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To be precise, I may be on the last two boxes of pictures. There are still a few boxes of green glass decorative pieces and at least one box of small corning ware casseroles. Also, there's a box in the van filled with things that I would like to try selling, but haven't taken to a suitable place to sell them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">And the stack of cook books to be taken to a thrift store is still sitting by the door. I think of anything boxes and designated as half gone, though. We've never retrieved anything from a designated box, so I am confident there will be no backsliding.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The problem with new boxes of pictures is that I have to check to see that I haven't already scanned another copy already. That would just be making myself a sorting problem for later. It would also be passing up an opportunity to chuck a duplicate photo. And I'm starting to get such a lift from chucking photos. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Chuck. Chuck.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-47127711818875150062013-04-30T22:55:00.002-07:002013-04-30T22:55:34.909-07:00I Confess - I'm Equivocating<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OK. I'm equivocating on this one. I admit it. I keep thinking that things like this are historical. I mean, not only have my kids never</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zO7ciTIq3vc/UYCldjkF-eI/AAAAAAAAA0U/Cpu3Yn_J6JM/s1600/8mm+movie+catalog_Page_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zO7ciTIq3vc/UYCldjkF-eI/AAAAAAAAA0U/Cpu3Yn_J6JM/s400/8mm+movie+catalog_Page_1.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">seen anything like it, I've never seen anything like it. This was pre me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">If that isn't historical, I don't know what is. Apparently, there were studios, or production companies, that would copy old movie shorts onto 8 mm and 16 mm film, suitable for use with a home movie projector.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I remember home movies, of course. My dad used to take them at the drop of an occasion, committing our lives to record.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He had years worth recorded long before he could afford to buy a projector. We would take them to other peoples' houses, most often my grandparents' place, to show when they would announce that they were having a movie night.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Then after we could afford the projector, we would still take them to movie night. Partly because it was more fun with more people and partly because Grandma and Grandpa had a screen and we didn't.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2SmcIMRMma4/UYCrPRFtJbI/AAAAAAAAA04/D6TVIRXJHEE/s1600/8+mm+entertainment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="104" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2SmcIMRMma4/UYCrPRFtJbI/AAAAAAAAA04/D6TVIRXJHEE/s320/8+mm+entertainment.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was in junior high before he bought a screen. He told us it was a special kind. It wasn't white with a scattering of glassy sand on it. It was grey with a special pattern. It was lenticular. It was to be handled With Care. So we were mildly proud of it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But even being proud of having a technologically advanced screen, showing movies on it weren't necessarily more fun than showing them on the wall, which was how we had to show any movies we watched at home in our non-lenticular past. Showing movies on the wall had kind of a home cooked, MacGuyver feel. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Abbot and Costello: Knights of the Bath. News Parade of the Year: 1946 and 1947. Words to conjure with.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">But that's not what I'm equivocating about. Although that may be why I'm equivocating. It's this catalog and these three 8mm movies. I keep thinking that they're semi-historical and it wouldn't hurt to pack them away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">It's silly. I don't have a projector. I don't know where those three films came from. We never watched them when I was a kid. It's not them, particularly, that I'm being nostalgic about. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Oh, well. Maybe I can find somewhere to sell them. Until then, they're not taking up much space. So what if I have no projector. Watching them isn't really the point. I'll sort and toss some other things instead. I'll let you know if I ever do anything with them. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-37226580476336107902013-04-29T13:00:00.000-07:002013-05-01T06:33:31.425-07:00More Pictures Tossed<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I filled the recycling bin again this weekend. It wasn't all old letters and pictures, though, so I'm not taking a picture. Also, it just doesn't seem as significant the second time around. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I don't feel that I've lost anything because the thrill is less intense. I'm satisfied with a sense of satisfaction, especially if it means that I'm starting to make a habit out of pruning the overstock.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What sort of thing have I pruned this weekend, you ask? Well, I got rid of a letter from 1945 that someone kept for the racy innuendo on the joke stationery.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">This is proof that sex wasn't invented in the 1960's.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I also scanned and tossed a few of my mother's old report cards from elementary school. It may be nice to have the image, but I don't need to store the actual card and give my children a chance to throw it out when I'm gone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I also don't think I need to keep the polaroids of the minor bumper damage that either Mom or Dad sustained in June 1992. Even if either of them were still alive, they wouldn't have that car and the time for any action regarding those scratches is long gone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">It's been more than twenty years.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mg5qUWBqsiY/UX3CvyZwH-I/AAAAAAAAAzE/H7PE0uS-jf0/s1600/tossed+4_13+03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mg5qUWBqsiY/UX3CvyZwH-I/AAAAAAAAAzE/H7PE0uS-jf0/s320/tossed+4_13+03.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes, it's a nice flower. And since it's an amaryllis, it was probably a Christmas present. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">There were a few years where my sister sent them an amaryllis bulb for winter forcing every Christmas. The first one was bright red, so this isn't the first one. And it's a nice thing to remember, but I don't need to keep the photo.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">They also took many pictures of every addition and change. Mom kept up the process after Dad died and after she remarried. I've found multiple packets of the same renovation, neatly sorted and wrapped.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I've kept a few from each of the major changes, for posterity, assuming that posterity might be interested. But I've tossed all the copies and chucked most of the year by year documentation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> *(And I have no clue why Blogger isn't letting me put text beside this photo. It lets me post beside all of the rest. If you know how to fix it, please let me know.)</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-13445152897391703682013-04-28T12:55:00.000-07:002013-04-28T12:55:30.728-07:00More things tossed at the end of April<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been tossing more things and taking more things to the thrift shop. I just hope I'm getting rid of more than is coming in. I've parted with more than a few books. That's starting to feel normal. What doesn't feel normal is that I've collected all of the books that I haven't read, or haven't finished reading, and they make a full shelf. That's five feet of books, if you were curious about the size of the shelf.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The odd thing is that I used to be a reading maniac. Very few readable things entered the house without be getting lost in them. I'd say that means I ought to stop buying them, but if giving myself permission to buy them and set them to the side gives me more time to do other things that need to be done, I'm going to take that extra time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">It's not my book release that made this family heirloom thrift shop bait. This one was being used to hold cook books in the kitchen. My son organized the kitchen counters and declared that we had too many cook books and that we were only going to keep as many as would fit in a much smaller shelf, which he supplied.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">To my credit, I only tagged one cook book as a definite keeper and two others as possibles, if other folks found them usefull, too. I also moved all of my medieval cook books to the shelves in my bedroom. But my son gets credit for the main cook book reduction and for freeing this old thing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">It's made of cheap wood and was originally stained dark brown. But the stain eventually faded in places and the finish started to peel off. So it became part of my furniture painting project. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">You see, at the time most of my furniture was second hand and did not match in any way. Some of it was things I was only keeping because they had come from relatives. I painted them all light grey with purple trim. This piece didn't have any obvious trim, so it ended up completely grey. The project furniture has been replaced over the years. This may be the last one. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">No, there's a two drawer nightstand in my bedroom that's still useful. It's still sturdy, too, so it's probably going to be around for awhile. If I ever coordinate things in the bedroom, it can be repainted. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The important thing is that there's more room on the kitchen counter and that I'm not trying to find a way to keep using an inconvenient piece of furniture just because I'd feel a bit guilty letting it go. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I release you to the world, little grey shelves. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9060909882559858534.post-13630777550080985682013-04-25T07:03:00.001-07:002020-02-13T19:59:06.156-08:00This Was a Hard One<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These two CDs were hard to send to the thrift store. My Aunt D was diagnosed with endometrial cancer close to five years ago. She died about half a year later. She took her best shot at ignoring it and put off dealing with it until it segued into a 911 crisis, emergency surgery, and weeks in intensive care. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">After that there was a skilled nursing facility where she fought any kind of recovery because physical therapy hurt and nothing that hurt could possibly be good for you. Those people just wanted to torture her. And it's possible that the cancer was far enough along that getting up and around wouldn't have prolonged things much. But she was also obviously looking forward to laying in bed with people to ring for.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Once everyone concerned was convinced that she wasn't going to get well enough to go home in the regular way (she would never be strong enough to stand, let alone go to the bathroom, even with help), we arranged for hospice care in her home. I think she was kind of surprised that laying still in bed 24 hours a day for weeks didn't start feeling comfortable. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I don't know if she ever realized that we had been trying to forestall the final slide. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com