There’s stuff on the table on the enclosed back porch. A bag of cat food. An empty box that held one of those water-filter pitcher thingys. A package of fake oak leaves. In fall colors. Stuff like that.
There shouldn’t be anything on the table on the back porch. Nobody put bags of cat food on the table when it was full of other chazarai. Why now? Why isn’t the empty box in the recycle bin? Why do we have fake oak leaves? In fall colors. Nobody here does crafts. Oh. I see. It was on sale. (Kind of like the unopened vegetable peeler I found hidden on a kitchen counter. It was on sale. Um, we already had three vegetable peelers. We only need one.)
Just last week, the porch was so junked up I barely had room to turn my scooter to go from the deck into the house. So I had it cleaned. Now, everything is neatly stored on shelves, there’s a clear, wide path all the way down the porch, and I can find things.
Look! The trays I’ve been looking for! And there’s my trifle bowl. And my seder plate. HooBoy, does that need polished! Why did I ever get a silver one?
Now if my family would just keep it that way. (Dream on, Alice… Wonderland is just around the corner.)
I am blessed with a wonderful husband and two typical teenage grandchildren. I needn’t say more about the gran. The spousal unit tends to buy things on sale and on clearance — whether we need it or not. I have an overflowing pantry, cabinets, shelves, refrigerator, freezer…and no counter tops. Which is because he’s filled everything else with sales/clearance items and hasn’t anyplace else to put the stuff except the countertops.
The shelving I got to put my small appliances on? Full of pasta, oil, extra jars of mayonnaise, etc. I do have a little bit of space for some of my mixing bowls and the like, but I can’t get to them. Did I mention the hallway with the soft drinks and water in it that prevents me from getting to the shelving?
“Honey,” I’ve suggested, “put up some shelves in the basement and keep your overflow down there.”
He listens well. In other words, nothing has changed.
Unfortunately, my circumstances have changed due to life-altering surgery and I need a lot more order in my house. I can no longer keep ahead of it. I can no longer dig through things.
More importantly, I seem to be feeling this sense of urgency to get my house in order. Literally. I’m still running a temperature, my white cell count is still high, and we’re now beginning the process of trying to figure out what, exactly, is going on.
You know I’m not a doom and gloom kind of person, but I feel the need to be prepared for a serious illness or for a move to one of those senior communities. Or maybe it’s just the fever talking. I greatly dislike feeling unwell. I don’t even like having a cold. This thing that just keeps going on and on with no end in sight is driving me nuts.
I hesitate to mention it for fear of jinxing myself, but I finally managed to get my basal rates figured out so that my glucose is in decent ranges. Only one glitch and that is if I eat too much (like a cup of soup and a sandwich at the same time), my glucose spikes high. Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t feel like eating much these days.
Oh. I have daffodils in my backyard. I’ve never had daffodils in my yard and I’ve never planted them. But there they are. One clump of bright, yellow daffodils all by itself, to bring a spot of sunshine. Plus the cherry tree is blossoming, and the trees and bushes (or is it shrubs?) have that fuzzy, baby spring green.
Welcome spring! (And it’s about time.)