explored the possibilities . . . art, life, love . . . in three words
Saturday, June 13, 2009
. . . encouraged collaborative efforts
I took care of Betsy and Joey yesterday morning. After watching the road grader and the Bobcat and the other heavy equipment work on our street, we watched the man grind the stump of the tree that fell in the garden. We counted the rings before he came, so we knew the tree was about 45 years old. While we watched that, we also dug up some worms in the garden just for fun, then let them go back to their mommies and daddies. Then all the neighbor kids came over for a while, filling up the driveway with tiny vehicles of various sorts. Then we rediscovered the paint table, and the result is the above. . . a collaboration of Joe and Betsy. Joe applied the paint, Betsy applied her newfound knowledge of making monoprints. Then lunch and then a Nana-enforced quiet time. After Dad picked them up, Nana needed a nap.
The decluttering continued. . . the trash was full this week. As I cleaned out a bathroom, I wondered why on earth I would save five shampoo bottles with just a few drips left in each. Or years-old make-up, empty bottles of bathroom cleanser, and other esoteric crap. Now I sometimes open a closet or a drawer just to enjoy the view. Next week I will tackle the pantry, also known as "Joey's office," because he likes to keep all his toys there. I need to figure out what to do with all the toys; they must be neat and tidy and stored, but still readily available for the kids. And then, the biggie, the basement/studio. I will start that next week, too; my goal is to have the house ready to put on the market by the end of the month, or whenever the street is resurfaced, whichever comes later.
In counterpoint to my decluttering, my mother-in-law was notified recently by the Secretary of State's office that my father-in-law's Aunt Olive had a safe deposit box full of stuff. Aunt Olive died a while ago, at 102, and the box was unclaimed until the Secretary of State tracked the ownership. Yesterday, she went to the Secretary of State's office to pick up two boxes of family photos, journals, diaries, letters, etc. The S of S must have thought it was a big deal, historically speaking, because there were TV and newspaper reporters there (kind of like Geraldo opening that vault?) and she was on Topeka TV and the front page of the newspaper this morning. I just wonder how Aunt Olive decided what to keep and what to throw away. Maybe if I live to be 102, I'll figure it out. Maybe someday one of my ancestors will find one of my old empty shampoo bottles in a storage locker somewhere and consider it historically significant.